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17 - son rob lyrics

[intro]
(instrumental)
alright…

[hook]
barely 17, brother i’ve been feeling old
get you running with the team prints, koga when it’s cold. got green, misadv nah we ain’t finna go. running gully in the streets, i never really know, what i’m gonna do
are we gonna jump? am i gonna crash?
am i gonna stunt? or some other sh-t…

[verse]
i’ve been really waiting to get on top of my sh-t
and the alb-m process slowing ’cause i just can’t write a hit
still is sick the flow but this sh-t is as clear as honesty get
probably it, deep in thought as i write in my chair i sit
i’d say i’m stuck up in my ways now, the boys is in la now
they probably on the plane now, well, maybe on the way down
i pray i f-cking slay this sh-t, opposite of the problems
i been acting hard as telling my father i’m ducking college
it’s frequent trips to the office, it often seems like i lost it they…
trip when i don’t talk but when i do they’re trying to solve it
a quiet kid caught between worlds, “unadult-ish”, and these b-tches all up on me for the violets in my pockets
with the, chronic always stalling me… nah ’cause tempest offered it
it’s honey berry only b-tch , no swisher i been coughing up
it’s koga klan ‘cross the epidermis until the coffin shut
running rampant until the piggies start the locking up

- son rob lyrics

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