Текст Travis Thompson – Nothing 2 Do
Текст:
(Mom? Grandpa’s passed out
Are there ants?
No
Oh, he’s okay)
Woke up with my jeans on again
I know I’m fucking up
Ain’t no frame, no sheets on the bed
Aching, I stumble up
I keep missing calls on my flip
Mom know there something up
Smelling like a half-day
My stolen Levi’s get buttoned up
Integra-fitted, we’re all your least-favorite children (ayy)
Wasting our life potential ’cause fuck it: we love the feeling
We dumped our guts in yo building, leave with a souvenir
And show up to swim again, yeah
What ‘partment’s the closest near?
‘Cause I could give a fuck your momma say we can’t hang out no more
Let me hold your transfer, shut up: I’ll be back next week at four
Yeah, they got me and it’s tragic
Man, they had to ask me for it
Group of hazmats smoking, laughing:
«Lil’ homie, lemme ride yo board!»
Lil’ lonely, I’dda left the porch with a forty and dub to split
It’s a party, I did no mores
But she tripping, man, fuck this bitch
Like, «If I don’t know you, please, you need to get the fuck out»
But she ain’t check her bedroom yet, so I guess we lucked out
‘Cause it’s never been my job to give a fuck about you
I’m out for me, myself, and bread
The worst thing they ever did was give me nothing to do
And I got nothing to do
Yeah, I’m up to no good
Said it’s never been my job to give a fuck about you
I’m out for me, myself, and bread
So, I got nothing to prove
The worst thing they ever did was give me nothing to do
And I got nothing to do
Yeah, I’m up to no good
And imma honor roll
Shoulda been poor, motherfucker
Put the block on TV, and now the school board love us
With the watered-down ranch, and them lukewarm ovens
Gotta feed ’em something real ’cause the school board doesn’t
Grandma made her fried bread, that was way before the stroke
She still tell me that she love me, think I’m famous on the road
In the courthouse since the coma, watch my cousin get the sentence
Pull me closer, make me promise: «baby, never sell no dope»
But I’m too soft for that, mammy
The coupe on the crash-landing
I poop on they stats, granny
I’m bound to win that Grammy
And making some stacks, dammit, but this ain’t «woe is me»
This is momma lost her job, so why me?
Hits in dough and cheese
And hoes in weed and golden teeth, but they see what they wanna see
Quick assuming, not the he-said, she-said, chubby, rosy cheeks
And the feelings they infer: just projecting broken dreams
I’ve been solid since the Pampers, baby
Ain’t no hoe in me
I don’t do no extra shit, I split it with those close to me
Yeah, we saw them links you sent
Shit just wasn’t dope to me
Do you feel a way?
Then fuck it, guess that’s how it’s supposed to be
If you feel a way, then fuck it, guess that’s how it’s supposed to be
‘Cause it’s never been my job to give a fuck about you
I’m out for me, myself, and bread
So, I got nothing to prove
The worst thing they ever did was give me nothing to do
And I got nothing to do
Yeah, I’m up to no good
Said it’s never been my job to give a fuck about you
I’m out for me, myself, and bread
So, I got nothing to prove
The worst thing they ever did was give me nothing to do
And I got nothing to do
Yeah, I’m up to no good
(Hey, what’s happening, dawg?
I was just wondering if you could take me to the store for this week, bro?
I need a ride, hit me)
