Past Self
• Written by BigMATRIX
What I used to be truthfully,
Speaking from the booth to streets,
Back when the Timbs was wheat,
Rollin' with a crew or fleet,
We packin' heat no Pistol Pete,
I tell myself keep my feet on the ground,
And keep your head up,
And be lucky that you didn't get wet up,
Like a movie set this shit was a set up,
I told myself I aint got nowhere to go, but up
They look at the sky hope to see God up,
But their minds nowhere, butt up
Syrup in that cup, It's fucked up
And even when the lightning struck,
Rain pouring I'm still trying to earn a buck,
And to my past self, never quit rebuild and construct,
Never trust rust the steel, steal be rust guns they clutch
Succeed we must, 'cause a little is never enough.
Uh
Succeed we must, 'cause a little is never enough,
I told myself 'cause we bettering us.
Yea
I told myself 'cause we bettering us.
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About the Artist
BigMATRIX
Member since July 30 2015