BJ the Chicago Kid
Uninspired
[Verse 1]
Life is like a movie written by yours truly
Coming to age flip, entitled unruly
The story of the warrior tryna stay above
The shark infested bloody waters of the ghetto love
The casket weights
Get casted as supporting actors
Digging through trash cans
Collecting cans, pushing baskets
Chasing that last hit, but can't quite grasp it
In front of stores, harassing customers
Flashback, seen a young hustler
Ambitious, surpassing his wisdom
Cash addicted
Or is it adrenaline
That forces these decisions that he gotta live with
Right or wrong
But either way, it's inched in stone
The art direction inspired by court progression
And I'm on it for artists who tag expressions
On a wall that's been rattled with bullet fragments
Painted over, survival guilt, hang's over
[Hook]
Looking out of my project window
Sometimes I feel so uninspired
Thinking about my family and kinfolk
You know it just takes me higher
[Verse 2]
You can tell the tree by the fruit that you produced
Momma, product of the truth
Is introduced to the news
Hanging from it
Bottom of watts n***as I hung with
I had to stomach
Watching the fans commit
Rummaging through the dope spot
Looking for something that they hope don't find
Imagine that on a young mind
You can find the iron cups in the squad car
Life flashing like the sirens
Mama cussing at the cops crying
Wishing her baby wasn't so defiant
He need change
He gon' get rich or die trying
Try to be strong, but inside he's dying
Just cut the scene
The subtitles leave, open the lenses, be road footage
Shell cases, dirty syringes
And sandbox from kids is playing ignorance's
Bliss they learn quick
Nobody is innocent, in a sense
[Hook]
Looking out of my project window
Sometimes I feel so uninspired
Thinking about my family and kinfolk
You know it just takes me higher
[Verse 3]
The credits rolling
In order of appearance
The name's on the gym wall
We praying on they all repented
The good, the bad and the misunderstood
We take for granted till they buried under the hood
Like a good mechanic, manic depressing
And candid camera's capture the message
Written in an old English bottle
Broken in the street
Crushed like our dreams
Before we realize that they can be achieved
Last shot on green screen, it's me lounging with my feet up
Expensive suites, ordering eats up
In a cut, train tracks
Me walking alone, reciting my uncle's raps
Backpack on, moment of peace
The streets never rest, the pressure's on me
Doing ignorant mess, tryna impress the homies
Look in the mirror before you thrust on me
To be continued, fade to black slowly
[Hook]
Looking out of my project window
Sometimes I feel so uninspired
Thinking about my family and kinfolk
You know it just takes me higher