I hope you find your way home
I hope you find your way home
I hope you find your way home
I hope you find your way home
I′m slippin', I′m slippin', I'm slippin, I′m slippin, I need a hand
Can you squeeze the man?
My shit′s spinnin' and spinnin′ and spinnin' like a ceiling fan
No alcohol, no pill in hand
My only vice is them sweets and them wheels I spin
You better calm that down
′Fore that nigga pop that round
Into your will not be found
Hot, hot glue with my palm like, ooh, Spider-Man
Velcro, nigga, I'm not you
I almost had a mini-me, I wasn′t ready
And she wanted it with me, I'm talkin' heavy
Then we had to guarantee, ain′t no confetti
Four million on that car, that′s not a Chevy
See, that's my interest
So as of now, raisin′ a child is not on my wish list
Neither is bein' a safety net for bitches
I′m too selfish, contradiction
Maybe I should before I'm too old and washed up like dishes
Never bite tongue ′til the tooth sore
If you was gon' apologize, fuck you shoot for?
(Phew-phew)
When I pop out, they say "Ooh, lord"
No Met Gala, but I'm everybody mood board
I did a whole collection, collection from Paris
They ain′t even send me the collection to wear it
I′m so embarrassed, but happy that it happened
Fuck what you heard
I ain't coon, I ain′t tappin'
Always some corn for you niggas who ain′t cappin', haters
Always ride another nigga wave, you a sailor
You could never moonwalk in my Chuck Taylors, brodie
You niggas is jabronis
I′m from the city where they ran up in Saucony's
Thirty-one zeroes, shit thirsty
(yuck)
Bitch sue for a mil' tryna work me
Settled at a mil′ cause that mil′ couldn't hurt me
(ugh)
It didn′t hurt me
(ugh)
Nah, it ain't hurt shit
(ugh)
Sip the motherfuckin′ water, did a backflip
And if I shoot the club up, it's a black bitch
Hold the play by myself, I ain′t pack shit
Yeah, eatin' candied yams and some catfish
Yeah, that rich
Fuck what you heard
I'm that nigga and I′m that bitch
I hope you find your way home
Real shit
I′m proud of you
I'm proud of you, bro
Like, you just never cease to amaze me
Like, you just-
There′s no words for how I feel
Do your thing, just keep, keep shining
I hope you find your way home
Yeah
Chromakopia
Chromakopia
Writer(s): Tyler Gregory Okonma
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