This is probably one of my favorite songs in the world.
It’s not just the rappidy raps, it’s my life. It deals with growing up and contrasts the image my grandmother had of me against the man the world saw I was becoming.
I could really write like a whole book about this record, but this aint my diary. HMU on twitter if you have any questions about the lyrics. The images are 100% GAN’s edited in photomosh and Microsoft paint.
The first verse is
“I did worse than my father, without birthing a seed. Pulled treys like lunch ladies while serving up curb knowledge.
Same genes (jeans) same bottles. Same greed, strayed faith, strays follow, stay safe, cake marble.
Grandmomma feeding us “teach the young to be honest”. The truth is my friends are shooters I’m feeling young and rebellious.
Kept my drama from her doorstep. (yeah) She was sacred I’m selfish. I really love her, cause I was her favorite, her little precious.
She’d never see me outside of the baby she fed them carrots to.
But my insides cold… it dropped degrees with every pitched rock sold to buy some hip hop clothes. This block is dangerous but this our home. We see the death as predictable “is this not normal?”.
Sneaker fresh, cops will kicked locked doors. Through rearrests, put the house up or I’ll miss October, its hallows eve.
