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p-tree - the locals كلمات الأغنية

[verse 1: happiest kid in the world]
feet moving forward like a tape
mind goin’ backward like a tape
still feel sweet like a grape and you’ll always know our
beats go apesh_t like an ape, f_ck the fake sh_t
keep it 800 for the mates, know i ain’t sh_t
yet but we stay on the way, towards greatness
i know sometimes future me won’t relate to this
but it’s okay, it’s the cycle for my shapeshifts
remember bliss with the ex that i texted
now a skeleton in the closet with the rest of them
wе were excеllent, now it’s just me excellin’
wish her well, how she doin’? i can never tell
‘cause i ain’t seen no one in months but i’m
with my n_gga pete and we smoking on blunts
we went to the bar performed old sh_t for fun
they dunno noire, but it’s so close to us
so far, the rise to the top been
slow but i never lost that feeling that we’ll
blow, ‘cause we put in work
left brain helping right foot out the dirt
tryna let em know that they should raise their worth but
i gotta set example, even if it hurt
freedom in the art from bleeding through the shirt
6 feet apart from the snakes in the garden
but we so sick, and i’m not just saying that
‘cause i’m toasted, i just have faith that rap
is my onus, gotta stay statin’ facts
let you know this: you can do it too
don’t change your mood for the crew, your
view can only come from you, gotta
prove you got something to prove, and know the
truth can only work with truth
ayy
[verse 2: p_tree]
moves ain’t even for certain
you can’t put the work in?
you can’t even bump my sh_t?
your brain is shut
i put my all in it
calling this my passion
it breaks the walls down
breaks the ice
most of the time
people say it’s nice
but i wish they gave more
than just one thought
they got a one track mind
since i’m not on the box
they don’t care till i die
or sellout the garden
i beg your pardon?
put it through your eyes
your picture’s wallet sized
i’m painting art b_tch
not even ogling prizes
i just want love
and to be better at
making the art up
without making sh_t up
i’m giving you just a taste of my strut
you couldn’t rock my chucks
you’re not close enough to us

- p tree

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