[Intro: Francis Bacon]
Francis Bacon: "[?] studio, it would be absolutely impossible for me."
Interviewer: "Why do you think that is?"
Francis Bacon: "Uh, no idea, chaos for me, breeds images."
[Verse 1]
Should've told a lie, but I'd rather keep it real
I be to rap what key be to lock
He whip the paint, like he beat the pot
She quick to faint, and he eat the box
He seek the bank [?]
My name [?] see, he's in the lot
Love me or not, I'll bleed out the block
Coulda re-rocked the rocks still with me or not
[Chorus]
But what it all really mean?
Going through hell fall asleep off a bean
The light everybody fiends
What they really want from a nigga like me
Couldn't relate to my peers
Now they all asking how can I see
You ain't got it like me
Thinkin' bout my dad, having triple beams dreams
[Verse 2]
Days I ain't eat, quit the theatrics
You know why I'm here, thats my baby pediatrics
Pedal to the metal, hands blacker than a blacksmith's
Just blew a backwood, just because I'm past this
Hysterical laughter, grew up 'round Casper
Broken homes, so you strong, hood'll leave you shattered
Everybody trappin', thought I was trapped in
All I know is how to break it down when the bag in
[Chorus]
But what it all really mean?
Going through hell fall asleep off a bean
The light everybody fiends
What they really want from a nigga like me
Couldn't relate to my peers
Now they all asking how can I see
You ain't got it like me
Thinkin' bout my dad, having triple beams dreams
Lyrics provided by LRCLIB
