Notes to Myself

Let me see your hands

Let me see your hands, bring em to me...

Let me see your hands, bring em to me, don't wash em yet

I wanna see the dirt you did when you overslept

Understand me perfectly clear boy

You don't need a mirror to look at someone you fear

I'm right here, the ghost of what you wish you could be

If only you let the reigns do the work for a G

I'm only saying what you know, excuse me but

You're out for dead residents to president you

Earn your stacks, set a couple new precedents, too

While your backbone's on the last train to taboo

You look like a buffoon, hang up the telephone

And get your ass back to work or call home

Tell your pops how you couldn't get it together

Because you're looking at the weather and thinking you were better,

But times change, homie, learn to roll with the leaves

Or else you rot with the rocks so box with what you got

It's not what you think, what you think is what is killing you

You never knew shit, put his shoes on

If you think you learned everything, there's everything to learn

You need to pull from these fossils for this knowledge to burn

For now, that's why your underground

But we can push you to the surface like lava in a volcanic growl

But I don't think that you could handle the reknown

That's why you don't get the looks you deserve, you calm it down

You're afraid of success, you can't even see that you're excessively blessed

If you were truly grateful you would hardly complain

But we know that ain't the case, that's reality mane

That's reality mane

You need to hear the mind's a fallacy mane

Your phallus is an asterisk in a galaxy mane

I'm saying, I don't speak for the laymen

If you can't see gold in this shit, your axe ain't swinging