[Verse 1]
It’s that pressure, but I’m solid like them steel pipes
Still screaming that real until these n***as crash my windpipe
Paying a perfect picture
I’m tired of being broke
I need that bread, I need that bread
I’m just tired to have this hope n***a
I want it all
I really thought I told n***as
If it ain’t about us it’s hard to convert with you
Before discussions about functions not in your budget
And this shit got me sick
But a part of n***a love it
And when Allen got his cover
We figured we started something
We went from checked my email
To n***as checking they luggage
I and my carry on
I just lost my cousin but I carry on
Cause I told them I’ll be a Don, no Pérignon
So can you tell me how I feel?
Ain't none of my n***as ate but you'll be bragging bout yo meal
Cause shit, I don’t make so many promises and burned so many bridges
That's coming up sure ain't even in the picture, my n***a
You will never know how I feel
It's only me and two others who got me my fucking deal
Immaculate Taste'll tell me:
"When you blow, boy don’t forget me"
Well, what if I don’t
Will you forgive me?

[Verse 2]
It's sickening, made me thought of my n***as missing in action
So I practice and keep it pimping
Lack is not my description
When all what you do is dream
But it seems like every n***a be pinching
These blogs won't give me a hit
So I’m screaming: "Fuck with their picture, I'm a stay me
Tryna make a living, pray a n***a never play me"
Nothings been the same since I been talk as of lately
Cause all I see is dope and hope coming from the hood
Where all of my n***as trained to go
Thugging in these streets
Mommas praying that they make it home
Cause none of them n***as are trained to grow
They all got pictures and I'm the n***a to paint it though
Screaming: "Life a bitch"
And I'm like ain't it though

[Interlude]
And I mean, I ain't even really wanna you know
Put yall in that position to hear that shit
But I mean like sometimes like
When a n***a need answers
And all he come up with is more questions
Like, shit get hectic
Sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do right?
Shit, I do

[Verse 3]
I promised my brothers I'd never fold
I cultivated my art and then I learn to pick my soul
Piece by piece until I found me
In these sheets of paper
I used to write up in my room, every week
I got dreams for being on stage, Pop
Why you still want me to stay, Pop?
I got to go and get it on my own
Cause when I do, they recite my songs
They recite my songs
And it’s hard not to feel alone