[Verse 1: Maxwell]
Hoochie was, only fourteen when she new me
Said that I have change, fate's cruel, baby sue me
Don't get angry, lately I've been faking like in movies
I ain't got no time to consume a name that likes eluding
A groupie, nah you was never like that
Truthfully, you told me that you never even like raps
I like that, usually, I like the type that fight back
Against me, choosing new defenses while you fly flags
Telling me everything ain't never what it seems
But at the same time making me comfortable and weak
A hundred forty weeks, it seems like it has been
I idolize your tendency to forfeit all your sins
But hopefully for me, it'll be a bit different
I abide by all your rules but you put me in predicaments
And I encourage your intentions, foolish as I'm spitting this
Cause of course you're gonna hear it, but you probably knew to listen in
Dreams become the daily, drugs become realities
Finality was all that really made me gab analogies
The thought of breathing maybe wasn't all that really mattered see
So I fudged the fucking paperwork to see if it could gather me
I miss when you would treat me like a poet
Don't I know it, the years are leaving me eaten like horde locus
Ravaged the past, and only so I'd notice, wrote it
Down, in the back of a black pad, so I can keep closer now
Remind me what its like, to have a lowered shoulder
To let somebody cry on it, solely because you chose them
Catch a scratch on my iris, but I totally am focussed
Maybe loaded, I admit, its exactly how I wrote this
Damn you contortionist, tell me whats the point in this
Annoited in your whorish voice folding over like accordions
Annoying bitch, vocals kept totally aborting this
I love you, never said it, back my in shell like a tortoise is
[Hook x2: Maxwell]
Where we at, where we at, back in the day
Where we sat, where we laughed, and smoked hash in the shade
Now we bad, getting brash, tryna have a damn escape
So we pass, and we gab, but it'll never be the same
As it was, hey
[Verse 2: Maxwell]
As it was, but I'm doing okay
Hit the hometown in my jette, cruising both ways
Maybe thinking that I'll see it, a old soul from the days
But I know as well as anybody most of those fade
Overweight, so I'm vomitting, hold my face, or pocket lint
Hardest shit is acknowledging the chase without my common sense
A sophmore, lost in tenth grade with (Walter Ostanek)
The memory has entropy beyond what its taught us then
(Haha...never taught me shit.)
Keep my shoes laced loose but race like cougars
Paid dues and slate views and made a great future
Stay Zoot- Praise used too late to bake budda
Safe face with my babes, graze on faces like a puma
Safe...at least when the psyche like to play us for fools
Drooling on my new pants made of suede
Wait up! This shit is tomfoolery
A phase and a waste just like your costume jewelry
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