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mickey factz & awsme j - souvenirs كلمات أغنية

(taking a big breath)

[verse 1]
two closets full of clothes
memories of f_cking models on the road
driving through the tows
money i’m depositing was old
these the good parts
what about the scars in my stories
that made bookmarks
souvenirs, look
imagine promoting a show for weeks
while recording a project, you finished over beats
now you’re showing up to reach
your fans to hope to see you perform
but you only see twelve of them
and your dough is weak
the promoter is broke and cheap
still rock the stage like it’s ocean deep
cry on the way back to the hotel, no relief
or meeting l.a. reid in the office
saying your songs are a hit
he passes on it
go to the next label and talk yo sh_t
lying, saying they offered chips[?]
just to create a barginship[?]
born for chips[?]
a deal was never sent, unfortunate
or writing songs for n____s
ten_hour sessions, start to p_ss
just for them not to use what you wrote
this sh_t is all a myth
honda commercial
on the train
i’m getting noticed like, “wasn’t you driving in the accord?”
so precize
brush ‘em off
so polite, get off the train
miss my stop
most my life have scars
that’s my souvenirs
i wear them like the oldest mics[?]
[chorus]
said i wear them like the oldest mics![?]
i wear them like the oldest mics[?]
these my souvenirs, look

[verse 2]
making songs to impress rappers
instead of my fan base
numbers looking lower than food
that is made out of plant_based
f_ck the money, i did it for the handshakes
and still got embarrassed on live by two of my peers who thought i shouldn’t stand straight
next to them
people think i planned “wraith”
i wear that as a scar on my black face
and still haven’t speak to that god
that can’t race
edited my own videos
saving grands, wait
copped up for me, side of the staircase
mumbling words on features and videos
thinking they were getting dough
car won’t see me more than my son
and he getting old
but did you know
i lived off facebook for like 3 years or so
i got about 2,000 verses with me
and they sh_ts is cold
maybe i ain’t even want to write them sh_ts
do i get exposed?
we’ll never know
they put them through distrokid
and they just appear
on your phone
now hear every verse like a small nick on my knuckles
so i fractured my hand writing them
i’m brunson with the hustle
in the past baby mothers that i’ve fumbled
i’ve dodged more bullets than neo
running from the struggle
these my souvenirs, look
..play back

(song rewinds and plays back)

[verse 3]
two closets full of clothes
memories of opened bottles on the floor
my mind is on the go!
screaming at my manager
“what’s the problem? where’s the dough!?”
bigger artist taking ideas and dropped me in the cold
left my body stiff and froze
playboy mansion in the grotto, tits exposed
tweet about it
stock x[?] didn’t have the cameras on top of the phones
neither did the blackberries
with the side that scrolls
why did jive fold?
i was about to blow!
looking like wolverine
with all these cuts and scars
healing slow…er
(song fades)

- mickey factz awsme j

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