Notes To Myself

Let me see your hands Let me see your hands, bring em to me... Let me see your hands, bring em to me, don't wash em yet I wanna see the dirt you did when you overslept Understand me perfectly clear boy You don't need a mirror to look at someone you fear I'm right here, the ghost of what you wish you could be If only you let the reigns do the work for a G I'm only saying what you know, excuse me but You're out for dead residents to president you Earn your stacks, set a couple new precedents, too While your backbone's on the last train to taboo You look like a buffoon, hang up the telephone And get your ass back to work or call home Tell your pops how you couldn't get it together Because you're looking at the weather and thinking you were better But times change, homie, learn to roll with the leaves Or else you rot with the rocks so box with what you got It's not what you think, what you think is what is killing you You never knew shit, put his shoes on If you think you learned everything, there's everything to learn You need to pull from these fossils for this knowledge to burn For now, that's why your underground But we can push you to the surface like lava in a volcanic growl But I don't think that you could handle the reknown That's why you don't get the looks you deserve, you calm it down You're afraid of success, you can't even see that you're excessively blessed If you were truly grateful you would hardly complain But we know that ain't the case, that's reality mane That's reality mane You need to hear the mind's a fallacy mane Your phallus is an asterisk in a galaxy mane I'm saying, I don't speak for the laymen If you can't see gold in this shit, your axe ain't swinging