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Travis Thompson
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The End of the World
Its been a short ride, but man... its been a crazy one
The shit we've seen and overcame, and all of it has made us some-
Helluva bunch of kids with stories for the ages
of how the hell we got here you can read it in the pages-
of receipts and tweets and poems that we left along the way
and every day its something new, i see the look on mommas face
i know this world - is sick and its twisted, the kids never listen
my prints in the system, and vince own a pistol
i never seen em use it- but he pulled it out a couple times.
we talked em down from hitting licks with it- like dawg you trippin
and he used to be my hero, always owed us money
i remember tryna light your tree - the power cut and you was sitting on the ground
crying for some normalcy, angry at me standing there
you don't deserve this more than me, but thats just how it is
wtarer shut off at your crib, and them kid in class had the nerve to say that you
smelled like shit
i swear to god i almost hit em, i swear to god we never listened- swear to god
if i could go back- i would do everything different
but we can't- i know- so i stand alone
at the spot that you told me that we would meet- go home to
quesadillas on my front porch
growing up's a blood sport
and if it came to conversations
only ask for one more
summer of 2010 shit was so simple then
them pills done took contron and then we never saw vince again
my momma say
that he's in a better place
that kids who come up outta here they grow up with no shame
I'm at the vigil holding a candle thinking its funny cuz no one could hold a candle
to us
but hey thats just growing up
My momma say the world's gonna end soon
I tell her not yet
I got a lot left
But it'll happen when it's meant too
And I'ma feel fine
if it all ended right now
i'd feel fine
i'd prolly sit up on my roof
and reminisce all the times
we spent trippin bout some shit
that only mattered in the moment
like a fight thats up the hill
motorola side kick - record it
metaphors and metamorphosis
apartment buildings poorly lit
I'm more or less a product of fugitives-
Find more lyrics at ※ Mojim.com
fugee es
i know i talk a lot
and say nothin in the process
buit I'm learning every day
and my pastor call me profit
the past is full of losses
but
thats the shit that made me
the high pitch loser who way too faded
I'm pacing
in a bathroom at some girls house
throwing up a lung
my uncle finish drinks
look down the bottle when he's done
so we went looking -
but couldn't find nothing
that could phase me
looking at myself
in the mirror I'm like okay breathe
you're fine
you're good
when they ask you say stupendous
cuz you know if it all stopped and the world ended
they'd flee the city without you
take a private flight
leave you there to rot
with vince and chris and tre and mike and lisa, darren, lindsey
shit the list could gon fuck my day up
thinking why its not goodbye no more
its only stay up and so i
stop
soak it all in fuck the outcome
get on top the car in stand still traffic
do ya album
get a grammy
get on fallon
they sleeping they in a slumber
everybody's little homie
yet I'm doin bigger numbers? so
i can't stand still
no i can't sit
i'll be at the forefront when that wave hit
and when it knock down the needle
the ground split
im chillin
these apocalyptic writtens
got a gang of youngins singing like
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