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Joey BADA$$
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Day in the Life
La Musica de Harry Fraud
On some third eye shit
What a young nigga to do? Little yute trying to figure the bigger truth
Fed up with little proof, hopped off this stoop and cocked this duece
Adopted by the street life, Moms was juice and riches
Pops was toolsy lifting, son of a gun, he put fools in ditches
Raised well, time went on and he aged well
At age 12 dropped a twelve gauge of 28 twelves
When I blaze this L, see niggas who ain't obey the style
So they spray shells and tool-grade's the cells
You remain swell, but you can tell that life that was once difficult
Got flipped like reciprocals
He retired the days in which he booted slaves and caught up in
Fusiliers, and now he gets induced whenever music plays
But that's just a day in the life,
You saying it right, weak cats get dismayed in a night
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Get this made in a night
You can say it ain't right
At the back of my mind I'm held hostage
Incarcerated flow, they got me locked up and blocked up my chakras
Only thing on my conscience is contracts and contests
Can't burn no s, surready no calling back to the
Nigga I used to be when, shit was new to me
Move indubitably, honeys always talking about they nudity
But stay including me to the exclusivities
I love titties, but amor kitties
You know I got those vato, you know the motto for models
Trust you gone swallow, but mine not those bottles
Men lie, women lie, but not no lotto
It's the primeval underground but nah, not no fossil
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