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Verse
Dear Stimuli Good morning
I donât know if you hear your life calling
Last night you was sleep at eleven
Now itâs eight twenty seven your ass is still snoring
Folks ask for songs and you stalling
Last rhymes you wrote were real boring
You be talking bout God, doing joints for the broads
What happened Sherod youâre not touring? Huh
Are you giving it up?
In 06 you would live in the club
In 07 you was spitting it tough
In 08 dropping shit every month
In 09 you was getting a buzz
But right now you chilling
What? You in pain
âCause Kampane died
And itâs heavy on your brain?
Mad âcause you put in so much time in the game
And you still do shows and they donât know your name?
You upset?
You depressed?
What you think, your careerâs been a test?
What you thought, it was âsposed to be easy
That people should see that your flow is the best
âCause you speak on life
Talk about death, bleed on beats and itâs not for a check
Bars you release they be hard to receive
Like the Garden of Eden when God blew breath
Do you know why youâre here?
Can you even understand His plan?
You think itâs all about flows, songs, hoes, broads
Trying to get fans
Thereâs folks out here that canât even stand
That sleep on the street, living on land
Everybody talking âbout marketing brands
What about the heart of a man?
They compare you to Sky
Compare you to Sai
Hip-hop awards never there, tell me why
Maybe youâre done and preparing to die
Man up is that a tear in your eye
All that you want
Is right in your reach
Youâre writing is deep
They like when you sleep
Rest, sound real weak
Yea they smile at the sight of defeat
But they get tight when you start throwing heat
And you dead competition
Putting life on a beat
Yea some say that you nice in the streets
But I donât really see too many nice people eat dog
Fight like itâs beef
When they bite pull they teeth
Do everything you didnât do on My Soul To Keep then, then
Theyâll fall like the season
You do songs for a reason
You donât just beast, well you beast but
You mix in teachings
They critique it but whoâs gonna reach âem if not you
Cats call you out, said you couldnât hang with Slaughtahouse
They donât see what itâs all about
You donât wanna be in Slaughtahouse
You want a family, you want a house
You want kids, cars and a gorgeous spouse
Get mad if you wanna shout so they hear you
Just turn up now and donât let âem ever turn you down
They gon tell you that you canât, wonât, try to convince you
That youâre wack, broke, get in your mental
But you canât fold
Never back down
Volume on ten
I ain't turning back down
Last year waterboy
Quarterback now
Iâm starting at the point guard
You get the point God