DESCRIPTION:
Lyrics

In all honesty
Weed ain't that important
Yeah I guess we courted
So many memories recorded
Deleted and repeated
A boy once thought a genius
Got his momma screamin demons
Thanks pops for the confidence
Tryin to overcompensate has made me a cocky bitch
Whenever you talked I wanted to pop you with my balled up fist
Used to be nothin but that bald kid
Now im always the culprit
Cultivate in moments when I thought time was over
But it just kept on going
Just me that stopped
The weed would talk
Don't know what it said
It was written in chalk
Washed away after ash sprinkled on the blacktop was stamped on
Walked away already too late
My moms still prays
Even though I'm already lyin in my grave
My brain is dead I'm wide awake
Thinking
Scared Ima do some shit I'll regret
My head hurts
Pray these meds work
And overall fuck this growth spurt
Always getting me caught along with my chauffeur
Had my fun what I got to show for it
Can't even remember half the shit I did
Guess I'm just another black African kid
Ashed skin Son a bitch kin
Guess it's time to relax and pack it in
Not forever I'm sure to be back again
When I come ill make sure you gotta clap your hands
Ain't need the praise but I won't mind a band
To play entrance music