Lyrics JPEGMAFIA – Quarter Life Crisis
Text:
«I didn’t really start playing music, like seriously, until 25»
Too young for the old kids
Too old for the young
Too black for the white kids
Too black for my own
They say 25 is the prime of life
I feel like I’m dying from the outside
My hair thin, my wrinkled skin
Somebody help me out this quarter life crisis
I been sleeping in on Christmas every year since I became a teen
Birthday, Easter, New Year’s, just another fuckin’ day to me
Heard a kid on CBS say he gon’ be a athlete
I wish that I had those choices made available to me
My whole life is wasted potential, I don’t feel special B
Niggas nowadays be gettin’ deals at fuckin’ 17
When you 25 nobody cares ’bout what you feelin’, yo
You shoulda made it by now nigga what the fuck you waitin’ for
I been workin 12’s tryna pay for fuckin’ studios
Meanwhile the police is choking niggas out on video
Sometimes when I see ’em riding by I wonder who would know
If they shot me down, who would care, am I next to go
Keep my weapon tucked in my pants if they tryna get bold
All this while I’m tryna spit some rhymes I should sell my soul
Or maybe I’m just gettin’ old
Kids be lookin’ at the cartridge they don’t even blow
They just Wiki everything they don’t even know
Man fuck these kids, yo fuck these kids, I can’t relate to you
Rappers talkin’ bout they hate rap and they think it’s cool
Lame ass niggas
They say 25 is the prime of life
I feel like I’m dying from the outside
My hair thin, my wrinkled skin
Somebody help me out this quarter life crisis
I been sleeping in on Christmas every year since I became a teen
Birthday, Easter, New Year’s, just another fuckin’ day to me
Heard a kid on CBS say he gon’ be a athlete
I wish that I had those choices made available to me
My whole life is wasted potential, I don’t feel special B
Niggas nowadays be gettin’ deals at fuckin’ 17
When you 25 nobody cares ’bout what you feelin’, yo
You shoulda made it by now nigga what the fuck you waitin’ for
I been workin 12’s tryna pay for fuckin’ studios
Meanwhile the police is choking niggas out on video
Sometimes when I see ’em riding by I wonder who would know
If they shot me down, who would care, am I next to go
Keep my weapon tucked in my pants if they tryna get bold
All this while I’m tryna spit some rhymes I should sell my soul
Or maybe I’m just gettin’ old
Kids be lookin’ at the cartridge they don’t even blow
They just Wiki everything they don’t even know
Man fuck these kids, yo fuck these kids, I can’t relate to you
Rappers talkin’ bout they hate rap and they think it’s cool
Lame ass niggas
«Knowing that I might supposedly be executed in the next 2 weeks, I can’t plan no more future but I thinks about it. But I think about my past, the things I used to do, the people I know. You know, people who care about me, I think of them. I think of all that.»