Songtext Beautiful gravesites Ransom.

Beautiful gravesites

I ain't gon' play with you

Yeah, made this dope but it wasn't china white, I'm kind of nice
It's kind of like Jackson, Jordan, Tyson when I find a mic
I bake my own pie, you still tryna find a slice
Sold your soul for an easy break, that's Elijah Price
Line of sight through these niggas who missed the Glass reference
Whole life I trained to be clutch, won't fear my last seconds
Past lessons taught me how to get my bags healthy
And I never had to blow like the brass section
I just knew I would win as a hood kid
But growing up in the projects was like them hood films
Just more gory, I know some stories that shook limbs
But this is why I'm hot, it's like I booked Mims
A good kid in this mad city that's mad gritty
Ask the locals, they'll probably tell you it's mad litty
My bars be God level, they blasphemy
With the punches, this kid blackin', Jack Dempsey
Them stats empty, y'all disappear when it matters most
They had a coach and still couldn't see me, it's like I had a cloak
How I make these niggas earl, they ain't Manigault
If you spoke up, you still couldn't have the flow
Bad approaches with good time and they hook, line
And sink to the bottom as quick as they blow
Frown faces once they see the positions we hold
Them bitches bent out of shape, Emily Rose, woah

In the middle of strife, I appear calm
Same shirts that I stain with blood, I'll be wiping these tears on
Don't steer wrong; I'm a felon, no rights but I bear arms
Get flared on, I bet you thought you was fightin' Amir Khan
The clear charm when I write with this vision, hard to recite it
Same words that bounce off you in public scar you in private
I'm hardly excited, you too plain, target the pilot
Stand up niggas get hurt with they flag like Jonathan Isaac
Your bars are misguided; established niggas selling mixtape slots
To try to fix they spot, it's part of the virus
We partly divided, when I spit, I give you that corner field
You nothing like us, when I clutch it, make sure your Jordans peel
For niggas throwing parties in prison who got that court appeal
It's more than real, he's strong on the tier, but how his daughter feel?
Explore the field, I ain't waitin' for faith, nigga
'Cause yesterday's run ain't gon' win you today's race, nigga
Some brave gravediggers, yay flippers
Campaigning on the ballot like Ye, nigga
Tryna get this to eight figures, yeah
I'm just tryna be great, nigga
What they give us? My grass cut, I'm watchin' these snakes slither
My vision splattered with blood
My wife and children give me strength, guess I'm just a savage in love
Remember, those who judge should never matter to you
And those who matter would never judge

I need closed caskets before open doors
From where crackheads crack heads and open sores
Where they killed for power until ghosts would form
Homies, I'm supposed to mourn but
Pardon this postpartum of this martyrdom where they're
Birthed into a revolution that they never chose
Grew up cold but I never froze
Too much heat around me, no photosynthesis
'Cause when suns went down, sons went down
Death was king and guns was crowned, murder was retirement
And I screamed so much that sirens were watching
But my end wasn't on no Mayan calendar
Living was a fight and I'm a challenger
Didn't shoot a pistol, but everybody knew my caliber
Less nine millimeter, I was nine meters away from Millers
Grandpa was a alcoholic
It's hereditary, 'cause now I get cheers and raise the bar
I don't know what to call it, couldn't care if I'm relatable
Jake LaMotta without a dollar, I was made a bull
Never too comfortable, though
You can get made a fool on blocks where danger rules
Alpo got murdered, the streets got paid in full
I don't brag, I breathe
I'm the man who made himself more than a Moor
I inhale greatness and exhale murdered friends, sent from above
The crime scene without a director's cut
The street cinema where a history of violence turned to pain and glory
Heavy is the head that was born to grasp the most
This ain't even a poem, these are Ransom notes