Chorus:
Will I make it? I don’t know if I will, tryna make a dollar bill, but all I got is skill/
So I plot, while I shop, tryna get a deal, but that’s not what I’m bout, so know if i will/
Will I make it? I don’t know if I will, tryna make a dollar bill, but all I got is skill/
So I plot, while I shop, tryna get a deal, but that’s not what I’m bout, do you know how it feels?/
Verse:
I'mma make it, NO YOUR NOT, they'll relate, YOU SHOULD STOP, this is fate, THEY GONE HATE EVERY CHANCE THEY GOT/
MY MANS GOT THIS JOB, YOU SHOULD PROBABLY COP, probably what? SEE YOUR ALREADY DISTRAUGHT/
No, I'm obviously not, this is my life, FUCK WHATS RIGHT, YOUR TOO WHITE TO EVEN GRAB A MIC DEVICE/
Man despite what you think, I think on the brink, in an eye blink I could be the king in just one wink/
IN ONE WEEK, I COULD YOU MAKE HELLA DOE, LMAFO IS ON THE TELEPHONE AND YOU ARE HELLA BROKE/
I'm not gonna do that, get off my doo-dad, you need to cool that foolish, I’m just tryna make music/
Cannonball, pool splash, clash of the titans, fuck a Triton, I’m Poseidon every time that I’m writing/
I’m ill, fuck a license, I’ve had enough of crisis, if i only knew that life would be like this/
I woulda quit a long time ago, but now I’m phenomenal, you falling like dominos, one punch to the abdominals/
I seen a lot of those, I think I gotta go or ride this flow, till the world is adios, then i guess I’ll be ghost/
Steeped in cool-tone sounds that nod to ’90s greats Tribe, Gang Starr, and Souls of Mischief, this record channels the spirit of the Chicago everyman, propping up the notion that true power belongs to the people. Roberto Johnson
a blend of lyric majesty ontop of a cachophony of sounds that stir my soul's intent into question?im serious .love love love this melodic poet. cafriner