(verse 1)
Stress is the alarm clock. I harm not what you mess with. I leave it all alone before I exit. And I come back, feeling so reckless. Like I graduated. Passed The Matrix. I have to make it. Cash and investments. That ass is stressin', isn't it? Got a bad bitch waiting for me to teach a lesson. The biggest bitch. I wanna teach her how NOT to stress, by my conquest of the flesh. But, listen to this! That would be making music. Imagine me breaking music with the music I make. I do it to death. Not to stress.
(hook)
I walk away from Home.
I wonder where you are.
As I come back to Home,
there you are.
A star.
(verse 2)
Yet, the stress is the message. How can I create, being reckless? I've already passed being Beckham. Kickin' it. Listen to the innocence. And still I've been Death Wish'd. Somebody wishes to scrap. I hit them back. The end of the scrap. I got my hit. They did the opposite. They ducked. Shit. What the fuck? Niggas get hit in discussions! Disgusting, 'cause I'm Lift(ing) it Up... like Yes. My conquest. Gettin' down the best. Down in my chest. I'm down to make a mess. And I'm found on the ground, right up under your bitch's dress. Yes.
(hook)
I walk away from Home.
I wonder where you are.
As I come back to Home,
there you are.
A star.
(verse 3)
I share, they wish to take. I care, they wish to rape. My idea, give it away. See what they get back. That's the getback. My revenge is complicated. Because I contemplated every sentence. So, it's all in my mind. Like an alien, getting interrogated. Face the abuse for the message. Making music so reckless. Effortless. You never guessed it. My guess is yes, whenever questioned. Manifestation. Damn. Feels like The Matrix. Architect. Charles. You can bet. A lot of niggas can't take it.
(hook)
I walk away from Home.
I wonder where you are.
As I come back to Home,
there you are.
A star.
notes:
All 3 verses rhyme together.
On YouTube, I wrote the song was dedicated to A$AP Rocky. The more I listen to it, the more it fits. I want no smoke tho, for saying I'm "up under your bitch's dress".
I developed a new style of sampling that I don't want to share. It's only between me, the record I'm sampling and whoever is around.
Cece's on the phone. ttyl
#comma
