Terrible Two's Lyrics

Gettin home from ward

Now what I'm heading toward

How I'm coming up is it

The pen or the sword

The lens of my lore

Is too much to explore

With some little mixtape

But here's my guts on the floor

Life kinda boring

Still I spring for some more though

Always here recording

Hope it turn to some dough

But it probably won't man

I know it

Keep on making art

But I ain't even a poet

Ever since a toddler

Man I really been a bother

Up all night and the day

Playing games as a martyr

Yeah my father let me play

Cause he ain't ever get that barter

Now I keep working everyday

Just tryna get this business farther

Part of working in this way is

Missing circuits switching lanes

Tell me stick it to the paved

But I got a wider range

Tighten the flow up everyday

Fill up another page

Ain't gon grow up til my grave

I follow dreams

Not what you think

Remember kicking with the homies

Getting snacks and sum to drank

Rollin on the huffy

Ain't learn til it 5th grade

Probably shoulda had a bully

But ain't no one in my way

Brodie in the skully

Other bro he had the fade

Ain't those was the days?

Tossing fades with Kurt

Faulk was getting paid

Drop lb's to the dirt

Always doing work

Yeah that's what I be

Same age

So why I ain't paid like Pooh sheisty man

Gettin home from ward

Now what I'm heading toward

How I'm coming up is it

The pen or the sword

The lens of my lore

Is too much to explore

With some little mixtape

But here's my guts on the floor

Life kinda boring

Still I spring for some more though

Always here recording

Hope it turn to some dough

But it probably won't man

I know it

Keep on making art

But I ain't even a poet

Keep on playing on

Through the cuts and the bruise (brews)

Football in the yard

Homie taught me how to juke

Wasn't very far

So we be hooping at the school

Toss the ball behind my back

Man I'm tryna lob an oop

What's the scoop

Just a dweeb

Playin cool

That was me

Hate to lose

Shooting 3s

That didn't even hit the net

Living proof

Of a dream

But it'll poof

If you blink

Got my crews

And my team

Boutta cut another check

See respect

Ain't a gift

Man it's something you earn

And talent don't just come g

It's something you learn

Through the passion and the tI'me

That you sink til it burn

If I wasn't on the grind

I'd be at rest in the ferns

Heard

On my twenty third

It's the truth

Pictures made of words

When I'm stepping in the booth

Been known in just a curd

Ain't the point of these moves

But I'll travel cross the earth

Since it's clear I got the juice

Gettin home from ward

Now what I'm heading toward

How I'm coming up is it

The pen or the sword

The lens of my lore

Is too much to explore

With some little mixtape

But here's my guts on the floor

Life kinda boring

Still I spring for some more though

Always here recording

Hope it turn to some dough

But it probably won't man

I know it

Keep on making art

But I ain't even a poet