eight months, man, i've had enough detox
every week that goes by just thins out the weed fog
everything up and down, feelin like a see-saw
mess with me, i'll knock you straight up out your reeboks

with the clarity, comes anxiety
becomin too hard to supress the shit inside of me
feelin like i wasn't built to fit in this society
step to me, i'll knock you straight up out your nikes

everybody buy me shit, cuz everybody likes me
but i don't think you even wanna see into my psyche
i don't wanna work, i just wanna get hyphy
i wanna sell a mil, and just do this full time, b

how come it's so hard? why it's like that?
how come god created all these people that don't even like rap?
i see why people watch tv to make the time pass
i'm just tryin to get some music out before my prime's past




and i can feel it comin
it's in the air tonight
i know how bad i want it
i force myself to write

i don't need a home
i just need a studio
i think i'm phil collins
sus-sussudio



smoke a lot of cigarettes, call me phil dalton
against all odds, i'm gettin paid like phil collins
even tho i'm damaged kinda like henry rollins
$400 on my ebt card, (i'm) ballin

i'm hood rich, workin on net famous
know you're blessed if you can live off your net payment
just get up when you fall on some wet pavement
life, at best, is roulette, so you best face it

if da house always wins, fuck that, i got explosives
i'm blowin up this bitch, if i fail at self promotion
society is broken, this my diagnosis
medicine and poison be the same except for dosage

the rich don't get that the same goes for money
college-educated, but you lookin like a dummy
chokin on your privilege, fam can't fill their tummies
while they lock the kid up, cuz he chose to smoke the cudi, shit



and i can feel it comin
it's in the air tonight
i know how bad i want it
bitch, i was born to write

homie, i don't need a home
i just need a studio
bitch, i'm phil collins
sus-sussudio