Dreams make green and gilded pedestals
Breaking day as we display desire's own end
The more we wait, the louder the echoes
Digging deep into shallow pockets
Never let go
Yo
Silly me for wanting you about?more
Same?silly?me that was?shoving you out?the door
Adorned with everything that both you and I would adore
And the slam lock on the top of the lock is probable cause
And the door got everything you'd imagined hiding beyond
Any measure you seen fit from what's left of the seamstress
Blessed like leaving six on the floor, rolling trips
So it's three of those, like Heaven don't seem close
But you next to a re-up, though
So Heaven be close enough now
Enough to feel like he don't gotta come down
Why intervene with propping open the door
With a prop that interest the hall and a proposition for y'all
Like when proposition's in awe
Word to an Eastside dealer with unified intentions
But ain't no civilizing who in the trenches
Bottle what you intended, bottles cover the entrance
Bottles dump into stems, then there's bottles up where you sitting
You know the vibes, where it's no surprise except for everything, right?
And you stick to that Morse code with whatever's left of you, right?
And whatever's left of you might
Be the right to the passage that's left
Or the package that's left, let it suffice, right
Right or wrong, it'll still be rightfully yours
All that you deserving to hurry you right along
I decided long ago if I go and write for the cause
There wouldn't be no return to the turn that y'all would reward, right?
Meaning these ain't the parts that get celebrated
The toll on the face of this watch is forever weighted
Arm drag on the floor from that arm forever raising
And arms backing you off due to the loss of better patience, right?
Wait for it, got enough weight for it
The sound of the bag you attract that'll pay for it
They telling you pick a corner, you in and out of a circle
Advice from Candace Owens and fifty dollars from Virgil
The lights be Off-White, so you thinkin' how could they burn you, right?
Same as the hole in your pocket left to confirm you
But validation ain't never make me no difference
Bet that I'm more persuaded off wearing these Good Intentions
On my sleeve, I done seen fiends carrying they cross
One to bear with nothing clearer than having you involved
Do believe, favorite slogan of mine 'cause that's what you should do
A recurring theme when I get to weaving a few to you
The theme song is still marketed the same
You get it or you ignorant, I don't argue to explain
But shit, what do I know except everything I done seen?
Along with all the parallels they was tucking to sleep
Thread count on the covers compared to what's underneath
Is worth every bag they spent to keep you at peace
But bet I got my bag, bet I got my bag
Difference is I ain't let them sell me how to act, nah
Bet I got my bag, shit, bet I got my bag
Filling up the trunk space, forever, I'm attached
Counting doubles like a Raekwon skit
One for you, one, two for me
But that one, two is for my seed, do believe
Told you I say it a lot 'cause you should do so
My faith be in who circling a pot to break a loophole
Time still weighted, heavier than a Hublot
That we started admiring for kudos
As quiet as a sumo, provider like bushido
Your life is on the line, survival by a free throw
Entendre ego, double-sided Kinkos
Making sense of both of 'em, free breakfast and reloads
Power to the people, arms high as a steeple
The paintings on that stained glass made 'em not believe you, overturn underneath you, as smooth as it gotta be
Berets in abundance, crowns on properly
My Alec Monopoly says seven the God hour, that's if you follow
Traditions started by the school a block from the Apollo
My fuck tomorrow motto through the views from before
I'm not in the mood to do the one-two anymore, nah
One, two, one, two, are we on?
We been on since forever, but y'all choose to ignore, right?
So now forever is just as true as before
All the times it came together, but y'all drew 'em apart
But bet I got my bag, bet I got my bag
Difference is I ain't let them sell me how to act, nah
Bet I got my bag, shit, bet I got my bag
Filling up the trunk space at last, type of shit money taught us
Gotta credit my highs, can't edit my highs
Flew up here like whatever, bet you remember why
Tryna sing to the tune, still don't get the reprise
Still don't get the reprise
Bet I got my bag, bet I got my bag
Difference is I ain't let them sell me how to act, nah
Bet I got my bag, shit, bet I got my bag
Filling up the trunk space, forever, I'm attached
But bet I got my bag, bet I got my bag
Difference is I ain't let them sell me how to act, nah
Bet I got my bag, shit, bet I got my bag
Filling up the trunk space at last, type of shit money taught us
Gregory Skyler Taylor, known professionally as Skyzoo, is an American rapper, director, and songwriter. He has released a number of notable solo and collaborative albums, including Cloud 9: The 3 Day High with 9th Wonder in 2006, The Salvation in 2009, A Dream Deferred in 2012, Music for My Friends in 2015, The Easy Truth with Apollo Brown in 2016, Retropolitan with Pete Rock in 2019, and his most recent solo album Keep Me Company. Skyzoo has also released a plethora of mixtapes including Corner Store Classic and The Great Debater throughout his career, and has worked with artists such as Jill Scott, Wale, Lloyd Banks, Dr. Dre, Black Thought, Jadakiss, Talib Kweli, Spike Lee, John Legend, among others. Skyzoo has headlined or co-headlined often-yearly tours throughout America, Europe, Africa, Australia, and Asia, and he owns and operates the independent record label First Generation Rich.
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