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[Refrain]
Tryna tell my folks that flowing ain't easy
Travelling down this yellow brick road until it frees me
I need a pen, I need a pad, I need a place to go
To get this shit lifted off a my soul


[Verse 1: Blu]
Picture me sitting in front of eighty-eight keys trying to escape
From a shady place where babies blaze trees on a daily day
Tryna get they gravy straight to floss cause told me homey watch it
These ladies play dirty games with you get to grinding
Where niggas pitch as quick as Nolan Ryan
Holding iron, blowing smoke, elope in fire, flame spitting
The game is just a way to escape
And our pain is just a way we can relate to folks crying

Finding ways I can make a difference
But fuck wishing on a star
Cause the percentage of getting what you envisioned is small
And the stars barely shine in the city, so we’re blinded

By the man-made bright lights, making my eyes shifty
Feel me out, hear me now, crying childs of the ghetto
Letting go a beautiful sound, it’s kinda falsetto

Hello hell, welcome to L.A. where devils that dwell play
They meddle with metal and letting every shell spray

Until day dawns, I make songs for the long road travelers
And lost souls after us

Spitting lyrics vicious like I’m mad as fuck
Packing up my bags, hopping back on the narrow path that’s planned for us

[Refrain]

[Verse 2: Blu]
In this world that I'm living in
I've given into sex, stress, and dividends

Los Angeles, metropolis, city of vexed citizens
Folks that smoke infinite dope for hope living in

Poverty is probably the less stressed position to go
So we don’t have positions to hold
So we pitch snow and live in the cold in hell

Inhaling, feeling heaven is close
But like roadkill I'm still on this road
Bold as any soilder playing his role
I stroll the streets in the cold

Even in the summer heat it gets cold
So we stroll with the heat and it's cold
It’s beeen a long troublesome road and im still traveling
Fuck battling, just managing life is challenging

Though I managed to make it
I damaged the places up in my mind
Like the times of Los Angles greatest
Wasting time and lifespans fucking around

I'm spitting deep shit stuck underground
So just dig it, or don't fuck with it

Cause you can't fuck with it

[Refrain]

[Verse 3: Blu]
Check it and I'll be playing Escapism by Pete Rock
Hot, watching police plot knocks to get my peeps locked
Smiling as my teeth rot from eating sugar coated quotes
Smoking dope to float away, but hey
The air is nice up there
I swear the feeling's good as chilling with a nice cold beer

We fallen angels rocking halo's like it's priced up gear
And if you need me, just ring me, shit I'll be right up here
Where fear is non-existent

Instead of drifting in a prison, where my mind's restricted
Where my Mom is wishing trying to get her broken promise mended
I'm training to be a seamstress, sewing holes that dreams fit
Fiends bring broken clocks, tryna get their dreams fixed

Ticking, itching, tocking watching, God is watching you
But you rather have a watch with lots of diamonds I've been fooled

By the word a few times, who cares if Blu rhymes
About hoes or saving souls, they wanna hear that beat ride

I rewind and try to play back the days that they would play stacks
Of 8-tracks to recline, now we blaze sacks
Taking back the feeling hidden in me when we used to smile, remember that

It's been a while, so I'm blowing off the dust
Brushing dirt up off my nutts, got this feeling in my gut
Im tryna let it out so if you with me then listen up, listen
Listen up cause uh, I got this feeling in my gut
What the fuck

[Refrain]

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