Lyrics:

Intro (Cam James)

Aight so I been ridin’ a lot…workin’ a lot
definitely thinkin’ a lot
and uh…this the remix, the homie Deante
got up out the whip for this one
put on for the A lehh get it

Hook

Lately I just been (workin’)
Lately I just been (ridin’)
Lately I just been (thinkin’)
tryna keep my mind on straight (2x)

Verse 1 (Deante Hitchcock)

Aye somedays I think I can fly
somedays i can’t even fathom the thought
and somedays i just wish I could cry
how yo cup runneth over, you facin’ a drought
i found comfort way deep in my mind
got the walls talkin’ to me they scream and they shout
i don’t care what it take, I just gotta get out
grab the Key and I Peele, I just gotta Get Out
see it all ‘fore I turn 25
I could K.O. the mind, think outta the box that they got us in
washin’ my skin wit’ these Washingtons
Benjamin Frank talkin’ to me, he tell me don’t stop again
fly, gettin’ high, Mary Poppins to poppin’ Hot Boy
but I’m just a lil’ Juvie ya heard
man I gotta choose peace over worry, or reload the 30
take three to the head, Stephen Curry
I bury my inhibitions, put down the hubris picked up the Henny
I’m still improving, the clock is ticking, fuck the competition
still the shit wit’ no pot to piss in
i make moves like a politician, fuck the politics
my demo crack and you gotta listen
read my pub I can spot the difference
in the jugg, ’n the jig, but I’m jiggin’, I’m optimistic, so

Hook

Verse 2 (Cam James)

Yeah
lately y’all been real intimidated
complacency, ambition chasin’ me
vision bigger than these Patty Mayonnaises
pressin’ me like Pistons in the 80s
self-made, only Jay around me,
makin’ Lemonade, outta empty promises
and failed dates, I eliminated
all the love, that’ll get you faded
50 told me get rich or die tryin’, imma
do that, but also do right by momma
daddy ghostwrote a master plan for me
i ain’t follow that shit, I just hollowed my tip
then I fired my clip at the naysayers
reputation as a playa playa
but my baby tell you different, it’s a Black Sabbath
mettle heavy, forever ready
this for all of my fans that never met me
I’m the pinnacle of tale tellers (mother goose)
all yo fans fair-weather (don’t fuck wit u)
No vaseline, Jerry Heller (another Cube)
Ice all up in my veins, Bobby Brown, a new millennium
150-somethin’
records in, I’m in my element
pockets poppin’ like my melanin
ah!