Feel these tendencies, tend to think that you lack the key
Perceive your hidden agenda, don’t feel the energy
Hennessey be the only vice for my fallacies
I need some levers for all the weight that I’m balancing (Onetime!)
Take your two cents with a grain of salt
I’m praying on your fall, I’m hoping that she take that call
Instead of curving me virtually, I be in those draws
The focal point of impression was based upon the flaws
She a smart one, fuck her, fuck her
Lie and say I love her
Her intent was intelligent conversation
Instead we let these hormones loose inside of mamma’s basement
I think about that mm-mm-mm, and how I got you naked
I need that 90's love, Will Smith and Nia Long
Passion genuine, pushing it past the pendulum
I’m punctual, but nigga time is invincible
Praying upon a ritual, put your feet in my tennis shoes
You’re unproductive, you lack solutions, your contributions
Basis is on confusion that they here to help
Moving images, TV muted, amusing musings and moving music
Should likely lead you to power of self
We pay Ebmud, to shower and wealth
PG&E for my energy, in sour and health
I’m balanced, that counts
We put effort in doing better, and glad that it counts
They say niggas don’t count
Can tell you how many grams in an ounce
Momma used to say, don’t you curse in this house
Better get to work in this house
Tighten your belt, say ‘yes, ma’am' and tuck your shirt in this house
Cause grease and smoke in the air might suffocate and choke in this house
Dream of going somewhere, sometimes feel there’s nowhere worse than this house
And so a nigga breathe
I tend to see my tendency to leave, and propensity towards these whips and
jingling keys
Can’t care for pretty things, and many things, if anything
But that could change for almighty sets and my bended knees