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jxycee - truman lyrics
(intro)
welcome and congratulations (god bless us all)
you are now at the finale of: truman, the motherf_cking mariner
(verse 1)
(bless) i just don’t get it
she thinks i’m pathetic
i think i’m prophetic
no hard feelings don’t sweat it
i ain’t problematic
i don’t think i am
i ain’t photogenic don’t like taking pictures with the fam
you see my last post was like a couple of years ago on the gram
i got a creative mind that i use all the time like a brand
i’m on that grind i wanna make a couple grand
want a beach house right on the sand
i’m a physical person i want it in my hand
i need my products f_ck i hope you understand
it’s hard to start up when you could barely еven stand
taking my life in my own hands i wanna be my own man
i don’t wanna see you
i don’t wanna bе you
now let me cook
i’m in the kitchen steady water whipping
i’m so smooth with it almost like i forgot the chicken
only broth in it just to soften it
crack out the crock pot again
don’t leave that meat out to make it start rotting
with all this cooking it’s easy to be forgotten
with all this looking it’s sleazy to be not it
not it
i got it
i got it
i’m sparking
i light it
on fire
and i uh
take a bite of this burger before i get this beat murdered like it’s a free cypher that you never even heard of
double x l like freshmen straight out of h_ll
and straight outta jail
just signed a brand new lease sh_t now i need a brand deal
or maybe i can get bail skip out of the cell
what the f_ck am even i spitting?
got no excuses i’m just built different hoe because i’m sailing in the ocean as we speak
lemme tell you something man this is not for the week
i haven’t gotten a good sleep in a mighty long time
i dream nightly but my eyes wander with my mind i wink
sanity on the decline but i ride on this g90 so i could float by this sweet seaside
drinking clear water, never that still water
f_ck that sparkling water, i want that fiji water, that type i’d steal water
that cold feeling water, that noncongealing water but that concealing water?
brother i don’t do that
brother i can’t do rap
but i gotta find the time see you other than youtube and
brother this is mother f_cking truman
the mariner and there’s nothing i know better than barriers and walking on through askewed land
as i’m walking i’m going and flopping
where to flock at it’s too many options
with my flip flops and white nike tube socks on
drip to the max but n0body nearby to bear witness to the air force maxes i have on
“nikes on my feet keep my cyph_“ _ nas
what the f_ck you mean i can’t be catchy
what the f_ck you mean i grew up around ratchets wanna be hash slinging slashers
lighting empty matches money under the mattress
negative criticism feels like cynicism attacks rhythms connect like tic tacs is
i’m on a whole other axis and i just f_cking begun
i don’t get back quick because i already started working on the next project with an 808 drum
now pardon me look down the barrel of this gun
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