Uh, Yea
It's a love song, for everybody
Everybody man, everybody
Me, Sabzi, your mom, your mom's mom
Everybody
Nobody in particular, everybody in general
If we need to be specific, you can get at me
I'll get at you, whatever's good, ya know
Yo, I don't really got no rhymes y'all I got a couple of problems
And the reason that I'm telling y'all is that I'm looking to solve them
And furthermore, you heard it before, you probably got them
So now it's time for us to settle the score and air the laundry
But not before I preface this song
And say I still got love for you
It's been a minute since we talked
And I heard it through the bamboo
Telegraph the half-truths of cash rules
Then please consider the payment past due
In fact you smear appearance to your mutual friends
Will make you wonder why some daps and hugs would start to turn limp
Did you volunteer your secrets?
Did you snitch out your people
To get cool with some fools that we used to have some beef with?
And he said that she said that they went and did somebody dirty
And you heard it and now you're no longer friends
I don't operate on that sort of level
I'm face to face
No fake Kobe Bryant and Shaquille O'Neal types of handshakes
Got a problem with me? Try diplomacy
Instead of side talk on sidewalks
And pretending that you don't notice me
Or telling people that you're worried about me
And saying nothing when you see a brother walkin' around
To nobody in particular and everybody in general
Don't take this either personal, emotional or literal
'Cause if we both about similar sets of principals
Then check me and I'll check you, like we're supposed to do
Everybody get hurt, everybody cries
Everybody falls down, not everybody rise
Not everybody talks, but everybody lies
Not everybody lives, but everybody dies
You might have owed me cash
Or put my shit on blast
And talk behind my back
But I still got love
You never held me close
When I needed it most
How can I call you my folks
When you ain't got no love?
You might have owed me cash
Or put my shit on blast
Or talk behind my back
And I still got love
You never held me close
When I needed it most
How can I call you my folks
When you ain't got no love?
And I still got no rhymes y'all, got a couple of problems
And the reason that I'm telling y'all, is that I'm looking to solve them
And furthermore, you heard it before, you probably got them
And now it's time for us to settle the score and air the laundry
But not before I finish this song
And say I still got love for the Barkada
Y'all the reason that I still rock
We separated through geographic locations
And we steadily walked along
You taught me loyalty and patience
And I never meant to flake
It's just my calendar's stacked now
'93 until infinity, let's take it back now
From car trips around the South of the sound
From B-town to downtown
And back clownin' out loud
Out at 15, keep it in tact and never fractured
Sometimes I wish that I can travel back so I can capture
The laughter, the waterfront, the ball courts, the tracks
Tiltin' Carlo Rossi back in the summer of 2000
Kicked it in the North before I bounced to the South and
Holdin' down the Heist every night was like a Saturday
And now when, I see you in the crowd
I get reminded how we came about the shadows of this military town
And for those still there, I hold your names close
And though I'm never in the church no more, I hold you in my prayers
And I only hope our paths will cross each other more often
Without you first believing in me, I'd still be lost 'cause
Everybody get hurt, everybody cries
Everybody falls down, and not everybody rise
Not everybody talks, but everybody lies
Not everybody lives, but everybody dies
You might have owed me cash
Or put my shit on blast
Or talked behind my back
But I still got love
You never held me close
When I needed it most
How can I call you my folks
When you ain't got no love?
You might have owed me cash
Or put my shit on blast
Or talked behind my back
And I still got love
You never held me close
When I needed it most
How can I call you my folks
When you ain't got no love?
... Nice here for hours
Talk all types of shit?
I mean like, let's talk about these nigga's shoes
Niggas be hatin' 'cause I be havin I'll tight shoes
And they buy the exact same pair of Nikes
Like, naw, I'm sayin', know what I mean? sayin', I'm sayin'
Fools, say that they still make notes right?
Cats be actin' like they know me better than I know myself
Based off of some Nike too low shit, know what I'm sayin'?
5 or 6 years ago I come back and nigga's was tellin' me
"Oh I know who he is." And ain't tryin' to let me be me
You know, I'm tryin' to branch out and make the music I wanna make
And like niggas wanted me to fuckin'
You know what I'm sayin'?
Like what is this?
I gotta have a Jheri Curl and shit
You know what I'm sayin'?
Talkin' about eatin' babies
They want me to be like the Seattle Brother Ling
I'm tryin' to be Q-Tip
And they're like, "Nah, Nah, Nah"
It's cool, I still got love for you though baby
It's all good
It's all good
You know that blue shit