[Intro]

Feel like talking to myself
A letter to my future self
Dear me

[Verse 1]

Momma in my personality, my daddy's features
A freak of nature with a low attention span I was
It’s funny how I keep looking back to find myself more
Perfecting and steady finessing god's work but lost my charm with the raw
Sitting back reflecting soaking in everything I've seen
N***as with ball dreams
Found a better deal through the bags of the green
Sported in tracksuits, do what you gotta do
But n***a don't be settling for coach
Got love not likes for the posted with the grams
I am a different man, but imma end up being the one to boast the most in the end
I am, questioning my skills cuz being in doubt is still an actuality to me
My reality, I can't aim for the root of the tree
Hope you understand that
Been so candid in my raps
Too deep be the same that girls tell you you lack
Don’t ask me how I know
Put the blame on the circumference of the O
Now it's back to the real like Shad
Moss I'm changing
Got a couple of peeps waiting
Never mediocre, shit I don't think they ready
Like a bouncy betty, rise than pop, confetti
No wolfpack so lonely
From the bottom to the top like tony
Bottom to the top like tony
[Hook]

Watch the boy go x3
Blooming and cooling, doing what he's doing
Watch the boy grow
Long strides, busy nights
Parents think I'm tripping, right
Can't stop at the red light, x2

[Verse 2]

(Blooming, cooling)
I'm just giving ya'll my life, my story, my trials
Tribulations, I'm not rhyming it's compilations with the best yet to come
I’m not from Compton, not from Long Beach
Views from the Oslo streets
Clubbing with the fake ID
Where you can find me
If not in the stu, plotting on a grammy
Looking for freaks to ink the pen with
If I see a pretty chick, it's
Slide under the bed sheet, please
Can't I enjoy some of gods inventions
Take my mind of my inventions
I'm so ahead of time, grandpa style
How's that possible, nevermind
They say I be rushing my coming of age
But forgetting my moral and ways
9 to 5, acamedic route
Work like a slave to get paid
There's tracks to be laid, like females
I keep only one input, that's input 7 cuz I don't wanna derail
Out here doing what I'm not supposed to do
Rebel by heart, society tore the boy apart
It's straight to the charts, no desk sitting
I don't safe a sound, no I'm not tripping
Hardships I'm not skipping, tryna make it with minimal ass kissing
Employing the loser metaphor still
I can laugh at the past
Can't laugh at the fact that I can name a class I can't pass
Fuck it, I'm young and found my niche
I don't care if I don't get rich
Keep myself happy, can't live in insecurity
This ain't no competition
Baller on a budget
19 and moving, conquering life as the subject
Sincelery, Oscar Blesson
[Hook]