Balotelli

I get this feeling in my stomach when you say to me,
You love me in those Air Max and those cargos and that ACG,
Just stay with me, sit by the piano and just play with me,
I'll take you out for dinner nothing spenny ain't got crazy p but,
That's what I'm kinda finding out, so we can see the world and eat good shit when dining out,
Yeah dreams that I be rhyming 'bout, bare new outfits trying out, your lyrics meady drying out,
The man that want his paper round, ironic 'cos he's riding out.
Yeah, but mind his business, 'cos different backgrounds ours was blessed, their's diminished we ain't finished,
Na no ones been the same since school dinners, or top binners we're top sinners,
That curiosity within us,
Yeah my mind it wonders off and end up missing,
Then that voice inside my head it starts to talk I start to listen,
Reminds me that I miss my people, love the hugs and kisses
But a smudge up on my glasses couldn't even blur my vision yeah it's long,

Your futures golden kinda like the autumn leaves,
Tell you you're a legend and of course I'll give you all of me,
But then again forever anxious yeah it always seems,
I'm feeling I'm Balotelli, 'cos why's it always me,
Your futures golden kinda like the autumn leaves,
Tell you you're a legend and of course I'll give you all of me,
But then again forever anxious yeah it always seems,
I'm feeling I'm Balotelli, 'cos why's it always me,

Yo, my bars will save my goals from going down,
So I'm smashing every cross-bar and playing on these ivories like Drogba,
Who let my feelings out? 'Cos they're free just like the dogs are,
My trim is nice but head is blue I'm feeling like I'm Pogba,
Sorry bout the football bars, that's okay
But they respect well that's kinda what the José,
'Cos they love my lyrics yeah and reading what my notes say, although they
Don't know I've been writing for the whole day (whole day)
Yeah on type beats, Loyle Carner, J. Cole,
'Till the musics working and I end up on a payroll,
And even though they're present yeah I'm wondering where they go,
On a bad trip or climbing out the K hole,
Their hearts are shaking, sweat is breaking, eyes roll back,
Their limbs are twitching and they're worried so I hold that,
A week is gone so they're re-ing up their next Q,
And Gadsby's splitting Nephew, you don't know where that gets you, it's fucked.
Yeah, and don't you think it's fucked?
And don't you think it's crazy yeah, and don't you think it's nuts?
So I'm going Home, and in the car of course I'm blasting Knucks,
NRG, 105, back-to-backs a must,
I'm going home because the party's over, with a sweet one calls me jt. man I can't be sober,
And if I'm sad she likes to tease me, she be arching over,
Yeah if you say the way I managed my blues, you'd call me Guardiola.

Your futures golden kinda like the autumn leaves,
Tell you you're a legend and of course I'll give you all of me,
But then again forever anxious yeah it always seems,
I'm feeling I'm Balotelli, 'cos why's it always me,
Your futures golden kinda like the autumn leaves,
Tell you you're a legend and of course I'll give you all of me,
But then again forever anxious yeah it always seems,
I'm feeling I'm Balotelli, 'cos why's it always me,

(But they show respect, well that's kinda what the José)