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fred e.t. - ...a penpoint lyrics
[verse: fred e.t.]
i wake up early in my day, i got some things to do
middle of the week, i rather be sleep tell you the truth
slip on my shoes i cruise 75
i stayed up way too long past the midnight
tired of my job but sittin in parking lot
movin with motives on my mind that mean more to me
makin time pass with thoughts so now i jot
warehouse gettin old, i need a change of scenery
growing up is harder than it always seemed to be
car loan on top of 20 bands to sae
i ain’t complaining much i still got a place to sleep
parents that provided, no lyin, i need my peace
that’s just growin pains and at this moment the oldest son is an honest workin man, til i immerse inside the industry
passion get u past the fog for answers that u seek
before break, i break silence on paper by machines
first semester, i ate checkers, rallied up chess moves
making sure my next move, it be my best move
va check fell thru, hmm, where to invest to?
wasn’t foolish with it i still gotta finish school
didn’t matter either way i’m in navient’s database
that alone imma have to pay, with or without the tassel
pullin up on peters street, city of ink tattoos
this black male got stamped like letters with breakin news
henry county down the forearm that’s where i roam from
rollin down jonesboro in my black 4_seat, okay
comin out with jerk chicken after a stop at pete’s
only time this drive got towed is when i take a leap
to get fly or to a pad with 1970s chic
somethin that happens when a little luck, preparation, and opportunities meet
never too small to ball, i will not stop til i’m 6 feet, even then
my legacy would wake u up just to tell u i did this in my sleep
let a stand up guy do it, and you can have a seat
if u don’t do anything else, u can play this on repeat
how i expect my sh_t to sell when the game inside is made for us to sink? look
can’t stand the kitchen heat?
i brought a mink
i’d rather have that, than have a fleece
bajan boo by the arm, silk drawls on
firewood keep the place warm
red wine pourin, with the game on
watchin trae young, by the time the day’s gone
gave away our court seats, you hear them glasses clink?
paint this for future reference, instrumental aesthetic reminiscent bout the late night ventin’
that same ventin eased the spirit, cleared minds & lightened hearts we slept with
good energy, good s_x, good drank, good chemistry
i’m 10’s across the board, you barely tend to be
speak words, move mountains, all mentally
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