Afternoon Daydreams from COLLEGE by THEakasha
Tracklist
| 4. | Afternoon Daydreams | 3:04 |
Lyrics
Some people call me a saint. Some people say I'm a savage.
One time I dated a saint. But he had too much baggage.
Thought he was boarding a plane, a Boeing with the horse & carriage.
Little did he know, this fighter jet was fit to ravage.
Everything I touch bleeds. Wet seeds and empty cups, I spit shells.
You thought you knew me too well. I fell off the richter.
And you fell, fell a victim to it.
Too crazy and too good. I shook you up, I'm glad I could.
All is well in this hood, even when it's not.
There's a jail cell under my hood's favorite chicken spot.
My head swells at the thought of all the empty vacant lots where
cops do donuts and eat donuts as men get shot.
Black men. Black pen, blue ink.
In the blink of an eye, yet another nigga dies.
Ask why when you cry & it hits too close to home.
Catch you mourning in the morning cus it hit too close to home.
Locked up in the basement... it hit too close to home.
The fear you breathe, they taste it. It could hit too close to home.
~
All the birds are dying and the bees are dead too.
Normal repercussions for the things that we do
for all these francs, yens, pesos & diamonds.
Dollar signs, pounds, gold, euros & diamonds.
~
I know a lotta dem aint, eating much more than cabbage.
When you don’t learn ya mistakes, then you eat like a rabbit.
My jackets matching these days in a haze of fly…
People feed their ego till it looks them in the eye.
Pokes em in they eye, chokes em then they die.
That third line of vision getting spit it before the fire, look,
look at the smoke and mirrors, peep the screen and the sky too,
If it’s an illusion, well let’s take a peek behind door two.
Divine feminine on a tightrope. Melanin or a diet coke?
Pussy pop or die broke? Colloquial or a synonym?
Coaching all of your women friends to sin again, to win again, and bend again, and thin, and then again…
Black girls. black worlds, blue drink.
In the blink of an eye, yet another shorty tries
to ask why as she cries & it hits too close to home.
Catch you mourning she won’t see morning cus she didn’t make it home.
Locked up in the basement... it hit too close to home.
The fear she breathe, you taste it. It could hit too close to home.
Credits
Produced by Beatlampers
