IJS

[Hook]

Just some thoughts I been thinking

Known to be random but nah I ain’t drinking

I’m just saying

[Verse 1]

This shit I write could raise the dead

Niggas reaching out to me I ain’t seen in years

Fairweather season friends, October’s back

Like I reunite with the pen

I’m like Tip in sense

Welcome home T.I., things have changed some since

Your little brother K.R.I.T been holdin’ it down during your pinch

In the South, out West, Kendrick, Pac would be proud no doubt

I been tryna bring my own reign to the house

B.I.G. you should see your boy Jay these days

Best rapper alive, bring it back, Timberland suede

Nigga nasty, still rockin’ the same old fade

And Mike how you feel ‘bout the NBA

Stacking teams — what, niggas can’t hold their weight?

Had a dream about me, L Boogie, Jean, Lyte

Latifah and Rah Digga going for broke on the mic

And I wonder if they’ll ever see us in the same light

Probably not, I wonder what Bambaataa think of hip hop

From now to when he recorded Planet Rock

I know some older one’s that diggin’ it, some older ones not

And I’m thinking about programs they got

And all they doing, shit Dilla would probably go ham in his spot

I do, wish I could’ve worked with him too

Welcome home Prodigy, I’m glad you’re back in the booth

When it’s coming back we need them hard Mobb Deep tunes

Heard he’s coming back with them black-ass Timberland boots

I used to rock back early in my childhood roots

Just the thoughts that I had, I let my brain let loose

Like I wonder where Ninth a been if he hadn’t seen Juice

Or Phonte if he hadn’t a had that Source maggie in school

I’m just saying

[Hook]

[Verse 2]

Just thinking of the future and history

And how that without music that my life would be misery

I’m Kathy Bates

With no you, you wouldn’t know me

‘Cause we bonded over things like Mos and Kweli

I’m just saying

This shit I write could touch a sister

Like drunk old niggas in clubs fucking with us

I’m Levi denim, I’m coming back, they’re wearing me out

Beside Pro Era, older niggas, yo New York in a drought

I wonder how even still them niggas hate on the South

They can’t do it

I want [?] to prove it

I used to wonder how I’d feel the one day meeting an influence

I did it Saturday

Black Dante and Badu

Nas, I wonder if they could all see through the coolness

Besides the fan in me wanted to do an Indian move

Smoke dance ‘cause it hit me like pow-wow France

I want a tour Europe, Tokyo and Japan

And make enough money to take my parents from plans

‘Cause her hands hurt and my daddy’s retired

But he’s still working overtime, graveyard eyes

And my youngest niece two, while the other one five

And the oldest one ten, she got dreams in her eyes

And I wonder if mine prove what she dream what she ‘lize

She can be

And if Kobe he had come to NC

Would he of had even more now than them six gold rings?

I’m just saying