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yohanan - year ii lyrics
my mom once said “there is sense in nonsense”
say what you mean, mean what you say, have you a clean conscience
so i’m writing down these words with urgency
this’ my contingency in case i never get to build a legacy
worth the mention i struggle with recurrent brief depression
music, school, emotions got my mental under tension, writing lines like bart simpson in detention
silly girls seeking my attention, playing stupid games
it’s like i hit you, then you air me, then you hit me then air me
your nose probably spent more in white than barristain selmy
ambitious, want it all there just ain’t no dreams you could sell me
my pops birthed the prince well then i guess he machiavelli
took a shot of bacardi, drunk texting at a party, f-cked it up with a barbie now she probably think that i’m a dull guy ken with a lucky girl like gwen but i got none
got no chicks like a barren hen
see i used to think i was lonely now i realise that i’m only lonely not cos n-ggas don’t know me cos i like to be on my own
i’m bobby and the music whitney
no you can’t f-ck with me, go play somewhere i’m busy
estate management tangent
never been a babe magnet
last year dammy asked me “if i fail where i’mma go from there?”
i told her baby i’mma have me a failed career
can’t compare the fear that i won’t be revered, making cl-ssics that’ll never sway the m-sses
i’ve been thinking what’s the point of getting baptized
find jesus, backslide in a bid to slide in backsides
i got so much to prove, seek no validation outside
f-ck do i care if publicly i’m getting chastised
put all in my endeavours be it music, runway, track
i’ve been swagged out for time tell saint he owe me plaque
i’ve been tryna move my music people c-ckblocking my dreams, see the scene ain’t what it seems behind the scenes
producers with no time, artists with no talent, singers who can’t sing or write songs get puff pieces on nice blogs, ironic to be ill they have to work backwards, buy drugs
rappers straight garbage but in real life since they’re popular, people egging them on saying drop another song but the sh-t is trash, end of the day it’s each to his discography
and i know this ain’t what you wanna see, this where i wanna be
what i tell em that you unfit like a pair of asics, take a break go back to basics, n-ggas in rap uni but they skipped grade 6
the burdens that come with age, break me down, make me wanna rage, ’94 nas 20 years a sage, i’m 20 too, it’s time i grabbed the stage
y’all don’t have clue, what i’m gonna do, ‘fore i’m 22
what i’m telling you is that i got the tools to shut it down
my ex like bill, she played a clown
weary is the head that wears the crown, matriculation gowns to soph0m-res wearing frowns leading lives with no direction, insomnia, loneliness, depression got me second guessing
mind on green like salad dressing while counting blessings in year 2
wake up and it seems every yute got a different view
but every yute is you, it’s me
a major key; be original
like it, appreciate it, ain’t gotta replicate it
so i’m dressing homeless
in my music making progress
greatness my intent
with social sk!lls like the rappers that can touch me, non existent
(year one sample)
wake up and it seems every yute wannna be a gangsta, i ain’t judging i ain’t judy but i am a little moody
raging but i’m aching cos i walk my path alone
my love life is in shambles that’s some bullsh-t i can’t handle
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