"That's what they doin' Cameron

They actin' like these singers, man

I ain't goin' to the studio until I got a situation"

(aRe YoU AWakE?)

[Verse 1]

Breathe

There is no “next” to see

You’re here in ecstasy

The very best it be

And if you think not, you know where the exit be

From pink you flopped, and ‘til you think up in the blue is God

This shit hard

As the peer-dulled ritual chisel to etch on thee

If your food has been poisoned, don’t blame the fork, man, check the recipe

Poignancy held in stealth, definitely, love, joy and wealth, preferably

My humanity heredity, though blessed it be, will be the death of me

How we treat each other, need not be discrepancy, but our decisions be dumb

Why hope need be provisions, when it’s the love we all want?

But the past, it has won, separate’s a fate we done brung

Desolate our way of life, and look to the artist to erase the glum

They entertainment in the balance, but no, no, no, they don’t love us

“Why you sad with all ‘em talents, bruh?” like, homie, shut the fuck up

Just fucking puked my guts up, up in the AM, thinking will I?

Keep my game brushed, press play, shush-shush, d-d-day past dusk until I’m

Too big to fail, like Citigroup

Approach female to sitting group

“Kig, I mean you well, I, do, but of late you been like really, really douche,”

Laughing fellow dudes dishevel bellowed past truth, girlfriend on the ringer now

Oops, I blabbered, “live together,” now that’s the only thing we think about

[Bridge]

It’s about time, my laces retied

They ain’t too chummy when you on ya runway, why? Let a man free-fly

Can’t you see why?

All this “fun” to me’s mundane, tryna cuddle up with the free life

It ain’t kindly man

“Breathe,”

That’s what they say to you

They fucking baited you…

[Verse 2]

“Your quote-quote line of work’s a fucking gutter dream

At most you’ll find it blows off under-weather steam

But I think you need your rudder tweaked

You plus real world makes me shudder, Noah

Of other rappers, there’s no number, Noah

Wanna crush your chance to further suffer, Noah

Ayyou ain’t no Donald Glover, ain’t see no Samoa

Your skin ain’t even kinda mocha,”

But this poet’s got persona

Leasing Mona’s, rolling deep

Froze altruistic, opened greed

On my own time, caught my own shit, dropping flips off stolen sleep

Reeling from my clock, like, they thought I’d stop at the first hit

Renting out friends, spending these tens, waking up then, like, “that wasn’t even worth it,”

Where were they when my net was worth shit?

I told them my ascent was certain

But they kept talking shit, slept on the Kig

Or had suspicions I’d blow up, and chose to fake cordial shit

And on I’m a graveyard shift, I’ll know the radar blipped, miles ahead

They trying caper shit, abd I’m on my bazaar shit, with an icicle head

Take a cent, I’ll saber your hand, ‘n fucking trademark it

Bitch