Yardwork

I once had a job with a boss/That I thought/Was an asshole cuz he couldn’t even talk/About how life has its drops/And he couldn’t stop or just pause for a second in thought/About anyone or anything until it was me and it was just my time to get laid off/I once had a chick, that I thought was the shit/But wouldn’t take a single risk/And wouldn’t flinch for a second about sitting on someone else’s dick/Then told me to split/Before I could even get/Half a word in about the feelings I had for her and I thought she was eventually gonna remit/I once was a shell/Of my self/Would constantly dwell/About how I would never excel/In this rap shit, and be relished to Excel/Spreadsheets and another shitty boss all overwhelmed/And these albums I was sellin would end up being eventually relics up on the shelves/And now look/They call me Mr. Brown foot/Knee deep in these trenches boy I’m working til it sounds good/Folding in for no one never throwin in no towel/Upward is the movement homie we ain’t goin’ downward/And we ain’t going nowhere no direction no excuse/Me next to this booth is like putting a neck up in a noose/I can hang, that means I do my thang/That flow come back around up on you like it was a boomerang/A Boomerang, took a year and just went through it/Took that bullshit that life gave me, made fertilizer from manure/Now I murder every track and tell the cops I’mma do it/I’m the shooter, I’m the suspect, I’m the one the to start pursuin’, Yardwork…