a.j. throwback – the lincoln & lincoln job fair كلمات اغاني
(verse 1)
bless my momma’s heart tryna caution
how when called as an artist, steak is forsaken
my skull and bones patient at paintings, waiting for platings
the pain in the slaving, tryna hook ’em with minutia
the payments are greater when you’re pushing up petunias
so nina with young, gifted blackening, but masculine
art of tying shoes, but barely mastered it
but scanned every magazine and front page passage they ever handed him
irony: everybody’s drawing up the plans for him, sans him
talent, blessings, selections in abundance
love buses? designing’s the direction of the funding
or a published pundit with perspective out the wazoo
with exclamated points, but he’s not your average yahoo
problem with having these massive imaginings
bammas cough, sneeze, hack at my path like pathogens
so when i get exact in the facts of what passion is
support is like food in a bomb shelter: they rationing
dry, package him, chill…
(chorus)
saying i should do this, do that
whole time, they really saying, screw this, pursue that
but i ain’t goin’ through that (why not?) ’cause if i do that
i’m looking at myself in the mirror like, “who dat?” (i’ont know you, bruh)
saying i should do that, do this
telling me forget about it, move past the music
but when i try to lose it (what happens?), man, it’s useless
i’m already rich, so you can have back your two cents
(verse 2)
maybe it’s the jones in my bones, i ain’t talkin’ brown sugar
i mean chalk, number twos and hangin’ round boogers
momma’s disposition, admired it so much, became the heart of me
but for the forty millionth time, teaching’s not for me
probably would make me hate my favorite color forever
critiquing people’s thoughts, making papers dumb endeavors
over_testing, the greatest of culprits in k!lling dreams
got ’em catching more zs than boarding at silver spring
“well, how ’bout the law? got a polisci degree__”
eh, how ’bout the nah, court is double dare, people talking slime to me
needing to bathe in holy waters of the nazareth
i’ll leave it to kevin lomax to play the advocate
two words don’t go together: joe and depression
but possible with hopeless objections, motion suppressions
besides, there’s a reason why lawyers always demanding more
two cents is nothing when sallie mae knocking at your door
front me? gofundme? i thought so…
(chorus)
saying i should do this, do that
whole time, they really saying, screw this, pursue that
but i ain’t goin’ through that (why not?) ’cause if i do that
i’m looking at myself in the mirror like, “who dat?” (i’ont know you, bruh)
saying i should do that, do this
telling me forget about it, move past the music
but when i try to lose it (what happens?), man, it’s useless
i’m already rich, so you can have back your two cents
(verse 3)
politics could’ve been the move
something in being the megaphone for the voiceless
empowering the powerless with choices
but even with my leadership anointed, can i avoid it?
to go from street appointed to the points in disappointment
i’ve seen the fine line between favored and favors
bargaining at tables in a chambers full of imaginary players
politicking is nothing but classy pimpin’
wanting pieces of me, but i am not ashlee simpson
rare essence for sure
pure, the music, allure without the handsome_looking carcass
it’s always coming back like boomerangs i took from marcus
difference is love brought me back in time
and when it comes to keys, i don’t shy away from hammer time
but when i tell ’em my destiny’s always been an artist
my pitches get met with a noah like a syndergaard and
side eyeing me, sighing like, “who you tryna be?”
exhausted from their m_ffling, who died and made you meineke
whole time, i’m flattered by the gestures
but zealots turn professors when i’ve done my four years worth in lectures
endeavors which appear as fig trees instead of cheering the big dreams
rather call on phil jackson for the pyramid schemes (so)
unless we’re talking beats, save your breath
couldn’t knock my hustle with a ram from the atf
call it being defensive, sensitive or maybe getting frank
but two cents is better off in fountains, wishing wells and jay’s piggy bank
even he’s got a twenty tucked away, feel me…
(chorus)
saying i should do this, do that
whole time, they really saying, screw this, pursue that
but i ain’t goin’ through that (why not?) ’cause if i do that
i’m looking at myself in the mirror like, “who dat?” (i’ont know you, bruh)
saying i should do that, do this
telling me forget about it, move past the music
but when i try to lose it (what happens?), man, it’s useless
i’m already rich, so you can have back your two cents
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