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receptable - wishlist! كلمات أغنية

[intro]
check

[verse 1]
i’ve got this laptop that’s been bugging
it so better than nothing
pour some sh_t that’s out my chest
and i’mma make it out in jest
don’t know what i’m finna do if i keep losing any more
my father told me, “be a fighter, make ya way out thru the door
i can’t hold your hand outside of here so make it on your own
you can’t do this in day, they ain’t build like that in rome.”
picture perfect that i make so i get it and i frame it high
pain begets from fantasy, so i just wanna make right
sold to me like calories, these vices are my fallacies so
part of me wishes that i could flush it out outside of me
swear i might fold but i dunno
on my d_mn wrist is ice cold
baggy them fits on all my clothes
nothing don’t change when i’m alone
in due time, i know my life got far more reach than more could keep
i prophesize my kite flies higher, so i got my piece
but the f_ck the slice, i want the pie
swear i’m on point now, peace to phife
cuz check the rime, i’m bonafide
no working class from 9–5
ain’t got no cash so i fantasize
these cars and hoes i can’t decide
on cruise control, that autopilot
but i switch it off ‘cause all i got is
[chorus]
dirt in my pockets, i want it filled up with cash
i got that trust in my process, f_ck all them systems en masse
need them pictures and b_tches and i’mma make that sh_t last
hide my deck in my pockets, i flush ‘em, shuffle ‘em fast

[verse 2]
if i can’t have it, ion want it
motherf_cker you can ass it
my centerpiece is my standard, can’t stand it, goddammit
it’s all the heat that i’m fanning
i’m sweating buckets, i’ve had it
i’ve been posted up in this heat
since my mammy had me
we chase these hoes like candy
we strippin’ out those panties
we grew up puttin’ these b_tches first
that p_ssy curse
way back when before we was hurt
we took our turns
playing tag while we dodge and curve
and trip the curb
we posted up in the corner store
with coke and straws
drinking out of a plastic bag
with tattered pants
uh, cut the back out our ratty clothes, those itchy tags
uh, sweating out of our backs, our capes a dirty rag
uh, spill a cup of that orange juice
ya too obtuse
you want me payin’ for who?
you know that all i got is
[chorus]
dirt in my pockets, i want it filled up with cash
i got that trust in my process, f_ck all them systems en masse
need them pictures and b_tches and i’mma make that sh_t last
hide my deck in my pockets, i flush ‘em, shuffle ‘em fast (hold up)

[outro]
hey what i need to sacrifice
it’s no surprise
i need some time
to take me high
dunning–kruger, made me think i’m right
but that ain’t right
see i used to know, but now i don’t
i thought i did but i don’t know anymore
this sentimental digitals, it locked our souls, no more

- receptable

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