A Day In a Week In a Year (Feat. MOTHERMARY) 1c6b6x
Billy Woods And Kenny Segal 555120
Hiding Places 1w1v2u
A day, in a week, in a year Where e'rything exactly as you feared Lightning could strike me right here Right here, holdin' a phone to my ear The rest of my life I'ma be like "Yo, I was standin' right there. " Boxes under the stairs Found some old Nike Airs, still tight Dust 'em off like, I workin' nights for this pair Nightmares of what it'll be like Lights from your flight's landing gear draw near If I knew you was comin' woulda picked somethin' more debonair Best laid plans of mice and tin men I was dead, didn't need to pretend when the bayonet went in
A army of fiends, she put chrysanthemums and daffodils in the burnt end of they crack stems Tears stream down they cheeks, just really really weep But in the end They hit-They hit the pipe again
If I lose, it was rigged I'm the man if I win Before settlin' on a narrative, I took 'em all for a spin On black ice Steering locked Driftin' Calm from the shock, oncomin' brights hot On the windshield it's one particular raindrop Caught strugglin' in the incandescence Took my hands off the wheel and cut the engine
Do we fight it? Do we like it? How do we recognize it? How do we recognize it? (How do we know?) So we like (Do we fight it?) So we like (Do we like it?) I don't know I don't know
Grenades attached to rockets And eager to tell you the names of they prophets Rappers runnin' outta gas Halfway through they second project My buldin' smell like burnt chocolate Knockin' that new Young Lil Willie Bosket Paradise in a gold watch I was right, the price was a lot (That shit's expensive) Mildly disappointed that all those guns was props You tinkered with the flow, but yo the whole style rocks (Somebody gotta say it) Who knows, though? Nowadays maybe you gotta shoot your shot I dipped in the fog, rollin' right off the lock Put drums on the bock It's a game of inches like when Police beat you to the fuckin' spot Kept walking, head down, waitin' to hear stop Brooklyn, Brooklyn, Brooklyn underneath the three clocks Unsurprised when the choppers chop I read the play, hatchet job, but you work with what you got
Life is just two quarters in the machine But, either you got it or don't that's the thing I was still hittin' the buttons, "Game Over" on the screen Dollar movie theater, dingy foyer little kid, not a penny to my name Fuckin' with the joystick, pretendin' I was really playin' Pretendin' I was really playin' Pretendin' I was really playin'
Do we fight it? Do we like it? How do we recognize it? How do we recognize it? (How do we know?) So we like (Do we fight it?) So we like (Do we like it?) I don't know I don't know
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