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evidence - to make a long story longer lyrics
[scratching]
(“to make a long story longer”)
[verse 1: evidence]
yo, there’s a time and place for everything, so let me start the narrative
i think that i’m the best but i ain’t here comparing arrogance
apparently you’re scared and only acting insecurely
some overcome their fear—the ones that don’t the ones that worry me
i’ll only make it if i do for self
it’s a shame what another man’ll do for his wealth
the whoopin’ from a belt probably did me good
made me look at the rich like i’m robin hood
i started rapping like rage and got robin good
from the westside mobbin’ out to hollywood
once the streetlights are on, i guess i probably should
make my way back home, way before platform
i was coming up quick without a pop in the mix
and i ain’t talkin’ ‘bout sound—my pops and i had a split
self-taught to be a man, i learned how to behave
cut my t–th at venice beach and had a few close shaves
been a lot of places when i stare at the map
but never been to therapy—for me, that’s rap
i ain’t tryna save the world, won’t continue to spend
just the people standing on it gonna pay for our sins
being concerned with them ends is why i write in the cold
and i’ve been righting all my wrongs while i write in the cold
got the f-ck outta dodge and saw the world unfold
origami in my palm and leave my girls untold, for real
to make a long story longer
[scratching]
(“to make a long story longer”)
[verse 2: jonwayne]
it was 10 years ago when i took my momma’s laptop
bootlegged a copy of fruity loops to get famous
spent five years making bullsh-t
rippin’ innocence like a culprit
dippin’ in my memory series—play it again, sam
rap game rum ham
if you say he different, then i’ll slap you with my c-m hand
rookie to be master, laps of raps over a ghetto blaster
dapper when i’m mackin’, fatter when i’m trackin’
and she said, “like you, i’m only good as my back ends”
i’m no slouch, whether or not it’s rain fallin’ or no clouds
if only just to make your boy so proud
i’ma tell you when to go now—ghost ride it
my third eye ghostwrite it
i don’t fight it, ‘cause that’s where my flow is so tightest
but i’ve been tight since hair was like bo bice
i was in the cut like scissors with no dyk-s
winnin’ like chicken dinners and grinnin’ like i’ve been sinnin’
rockin’ that t-t glitter
and if you’re mad at what we’re doing, then you’ve been bitter
body forbid my heart is a martyr—longevity, my alma mater
an honor to create until i’m a goner
to make a long story longer
[scratching]
(“to make a long story longer”)
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