the only us - taelor gray & armond wakeup lyrics
[intro: taelor gray]
play at your own risk
[verse 1: taelor gray]
it’s soundwave calligraphy
guillotine head rest, in case you nodding off
check it homie, this is dilla’s beat
we white water rafting these rappers, that ship has sailed
if you ain’t talking bout action, tongue lashing slave ships
or patching sap criminals, tycoons, corrupt senators
it’s so similar
that’s why we writing for them skeptics, pop a couple rounds
and you fighting for them exes, boy you so extra
you said it’s for protection, i’m just tryna show them
that we’re tryna be respected, boy you so extra
look you don’t need drawstrings
and you a different dude when you off screen
naw homie, i’m just hanging off the crossbeams
spilling all my crimes to the man right across me, right?
he said we’re going to a paradise, right?
like we headed to the paradise
see the city’s got the sun, every day’s fair skies
75 fahrenheit, right?
we coming from the underground, checking from the catacombs
echo from the rabbit hole
i’m on the record, take a wrecking ball to babylon, right?
i hear your talking from your porches
black jesus got you talking to them portraits
seminary reinforcements
but what’s the difference, slim pickens in the orchards
see you picket the abortions, the victims or the orphans
politicians stricken for endors-m-nts
but you don’t see the smokescreens
this government -ssistants for the dope fiends
i found a widow that was weeping on the willow
face full of fear, tears sinking on her pillow
she said “the only way to money is my body”
forty years old worst fear is sobriety, right?
first year as a pastor
and this the type of flock i’m looking after
[break: taelor gray]
right
uh, right
yeah, yeah
right
huh, right
[verse 2: armond wakeup]
since epiphany, it’s been a different me
i see the lord’s singing symphonies built out of centipedes
these little we’s
these little weeds in the garden of eden got me nostalgic
god saying guard where you bleed from, i’ve been heartless
should have been bobbing and weaving
but i’m creed fighting drago, i hardly perceive
all that i was getting myself into
spending my life splitting myself in two
needles and camels need in my selfish views
let me move to seattle where it rains
and sneakers and tea is all i entertain, word to renee
a ghetto love is a law that we live by
hands lifted high, let me live in the sky
instead of here, where my little pride is a little biased
i can rap circles around the globe, but consider retiring
i’m more marcus allen than marcus graham
running from all that i am, like my art is a sham
i should be feeding the homeless
reading extra jesus and the epistles
but on the phone tweeting & scrolling
leading my home, preaching to the hopeless
while hoping shorty responds to my texts
i’m a mess, i digress
learning of the filth in my bloodline
but is it vain if i put it in a punchline?
the sublime asking me what i got
but i’m locked with my head on a swivel, now the plot thickens
a lot’s different, i just give it to god
or say i did, while i’m fl1cking my watch
l1cking a shot in this rat race
what’s more important, the spotlight or backstage?
i lack chasing, it saved me, but also trapped me crazy
my dad me to stack patience
practice graciousness, attach myself to greatness
[outro: armond wakeup]
and that’s the latest, right?
i said that’s the latest, right?
yeah, armond and taelor, right?
i said armond and taelor, right?
yeah, play at your own risk
act like you know, we on some-
go ahead and cut it off
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