[Intro]
[Spoken: Producer]
What’s The Next Song Jr.?

[Spoken: Unappreciated Jr.]
Shit...I don’t know man

*Clear Throat*

[Verse 1]
Okay
Year ninety-nine where it all begins
At the age of ten, my heart was in this pen
Lord still blessin’ me even though I sin
Back then, use to wake up early In the mornin’, just to watch some Animaniacs and Static Shock, be in front of the Tv screen with my bowl of cereal and dirty socks
Now In high school, I’m dressin’ like everybody else and twistin’ my hair just to have some dreadlocks
Hold up...where’s pops?, For some reason he’s always gone
And now momma over here complainin’ about bein’ alone
This house doesn’t feel like home
Wanna runaway but I’m scared to end up on my own
So I go in my room, lock the door and be in my zone
With my notebook, laid back with my headphones
Pops said, “That rappin’ shit ain’t meant for you”
Fuck you, I'd rather die than listen to you
I don’t hate him, I just hate the fact that he think I’m “one of them”
Trust me pops, I’ll never be none of them
L. Mitchell, I’m the son of him
L. Shelby, tell him I said “Fuck him!”
Make one proud and make the other hate me
Hope momma scream my name out loud, tellin’ people that she made me
It’s all fuckin’ crazy, cause momma taught me how to talk like this
See that “Confidence Walk” Mitchell is the reason why I walk like this
Fuck bein’ a rapper, I wanna be known as an artist
Fuck rappin’ about bullshit, I wanna rap about the darkest
While everybody’s asleep
I’m up thinkin’ my hardest, this rap gotta be somethin’ deep cause I’ma motherfuckin’ artist

[Hook]
Lord, (please follow me)
Jesus, (please follow me)
Momma, (please follow me)
Mitchell, (please follow me)
Shelby, (don’t follow me)
Cause n***a I’ll be damned
Fuck you, I’m showing you that I’m the motherfuckin’ man
I ain’t goin’ through this again
No matter how many times I explained it, you still won’t understand

[Verse 2]
Uh
Tryna look cleaner
Tryna get a bad bitch that look like Trina
Nah I’m kiddin’, I’m actually lookin’ for a girl who’s always focus
Fuck a Trina, I need me a Poetic Justice
Need me a real one, who wears baggy jeans and baseball shirts
A real one, who talk about her dreams and write poetry explainin’ why she’s always hurt
Read it for myself and become a fan of her work
After reading each other piece, we might be able to relate
Cause we both talk about love more than hate
Fuck dying perfect, I wanna die great
You ain’t a real legend if you never made mistakes
Step on stage, you hear a little girl screamin’ “that’s uncle Leo” she’s only two years old and already I’m her hero

[Hook]
Lord, (please follow me)
Jesus, (please follow me)
Momma, (please follow me)
Mitchell, (please follow me)
Shelby, (don’t follow me)
Cause n***a I’ll be damned
Fuck you, I’m showing you that I’m the motherfuckin’ man
I ain’t goin’ through this again
No matter how many times I explained it, you still won’t understand