and ima have a good day
And I’ma have a good day, Stood and held my hunger at bay, Stomp my foot, I’m right where I stay, Note for note, I don’t delay. Not hard to approach, I just relay, Smoke a roach and then hit play, Boomin’ off the couch, never hit the hay, Always had a doubt, smoke a cloud, drift away. Every drought like cottonmouth, weed on the tray, Hear me shout, harmonize the whole bay, Wishin’ out aloud for a fortune, not dismay, I’m devout with these words, watch ’em sway. Blackout powers like the fay, Knock out any enemy any day, Smoke out the dugout, weigh what I blaze, Plug tapped out, left the block in a haze. Static in the air, systematic pattern, Dragon-snout fire, hazardous matter, Blast through doubt, turn pressure to passion, Built from the bottom, still chasin’ what’s happenin’. Came from the dark where the lights never stayed, Learned how to move when the pressure got raised, Every verse hit like a debt gettin’ paid, Every move calculated, every card gettin’ played. Stayed in the lab while they stayed in the way, Sharpened my craft while they faded away, Thoughts in a spiral, got lost in the maze, Now I’m drawin’ straight lines through the fog and the haze. Show a piece, keep a piece, got a piece in my hand, Watch the smoke drift slow while I’m stickin’ to the plan, Tell ’em enough to understand the man that I am, Not enough to hold the map to every mile that I ran. Used to wear my heart outside, now I tuck it away, Still I let the music talk when I got nothin’ to say, Know the cycle when I see it, still get caught in its sway, Self-aware enough to spot it, not enough to walk away. I know what’s holdin’ me back, still learnin’ to let it go, Some nights I see it clear as day, some nights I never know, Smoke rise from the piece in my hand while old thoughts float, Some truths stay beneath the surface, never make it to the smoke. Some scars don’t become lessons, they just stay where they land, Like a weight in the backpack that I still understand, Tryna grow through the pressure, keep my feet where I stand, Still writin’ my story, pen in smoke, fate in my hands. And I’ma have a good day, that’s the promise that I make, Even when I know the habits and the roads that I still take, Progress ain’t a straight line, every move got give and take, But I’m still buildin’ from the struggle, every breath, every mistake.
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And I’ma have a good day, Stood and held my hunger at bay, Stomp my foot, I’m right where I stay, Note for note, I don’t delay. Not hard to approach, I just relay, Smoke a roach and then hit play, Boomin’ off the couch, never hit the hay, Always had a doubt, smoke a cloud, drift away. Every drought like cottonmouth, weed on the tray, Hear me shout, harmonize the whole bay, Wishin’ out aloud for a fortune, not dismay, I’m devout with these words, watch ’em sway. Blackout powers like the fay, Knock out any enemy any day, Smoke out the dugout, weigh what I blaze, Plug tapped out, left the block in a haze. Static in the air, systematic pattern, Dragon-snout fire, hazardous matter, Blast through doubt, turn pressure to passion, Built from the bottom, still chasin’ what’s happenin’. Came from the dark where the lights never stayed, Learned how to move when the pressure got raised, Every verse hit like a debt gettin’ paid, Every move calculated, every card gettin’ played. Stayed in the lab while they stayed in the way, Sharpened my craft while they faded away, Thoughts in a spiral, got lost in the maze, Now I’m drawin’ straight lines through the fog and the haze. Show a piece, keep a piece, got a piece in my hand, Watch the smoke drift slow while I’m stickin’ to the plan, Tell ’em enough to understand the man that I am, Not enough to hold the map to every mile that I ran. Used to wear my heart outside, now I tuck it away, Still I let the music talk when I got nothin’ to say, Know the cycle when I see it, still get caught in its sway, Self-aware enough to spot it, not enough to walk away. I know what’s holdin’ me back, still learnin’ to let it go, Some nights I see it clear as day, some nights I never know, Smoke rise from the piece in my hand while old thoughts float, Some truths stay beneath the surface, never make it to the smoke. Some scars don’t become lessons, they just stay where they land, Like a weight in the backpack that I still understand, Tryna grow through the pressure, keep my feet where I stand, Still writin’ my story, pen in smoke, fate in my hands. And I’ma have a good day, that’s the promise that I make, Even when I know the habits and the roads that I still take, Progress ain’t a straight line, every move got give and take, But I’m still buildin’ from the struggle, every breath, every mistake.
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