Lyrics Soul Food - Derrick Lamar

Another day stressing
I'm tryin a find direction
My days are mazes but amazing when I count my blessings
I try to keep the lessons
From bad situations
I'm mad but I'm bracing
But still it gives me patience
Although I'm far from perfect
I still strive tho
I'm hot as grease and I let the small fries know
It's no surprise hoe
I'm still standing in the flesh
I come from a strong line of blood so I gotta rep
I don't regret wearing my heart on my sleeve
But if you taking that as weak boy so hard ima squeeze
Go so hard for my cheese
It's like I'm working at a dairy shit
8's and 0's on me homie
I'm on my Jerry shit
They want it cheap but shit my kids still gotta eat
I'm on the streets so I live daily through these beats
Write raps for tracks and trap simultaneous
Sprit crack and crap
Dope shit cause I be flaming em

This sir is mixing like my posse's on Broadway
I'm hard headed so I always learned the hard way
But worked hard just to get them Penny Hardaway's
Shit me and Casey thought that we was Penny Hardaway
That's how we met
Man them days seem so far away
When I was bad Momma never took my art away
And shit I love her for it
I'm like the hoverboard on back to the future
Not use to missing my brother
Boy
My older sibling always stayed in and out of prisons
But still managed to be home for some thanksgivings
That's why I'm thanks giving
At least He still living
Out on the streets where these crazy Niggas do the killing
With no feeling
Blowing tops off no ceilings
And I ain't scared but I'm smart so I'm cold chillin
Without a gold grill in
I be rocking gold killing
Anybody who's opposing me
I gotta flow, brilliant

Outta nowhere my mood is cool
Then turns to disgruntled
This rap game is like I'm walking through a dark tunnel
With blindfolds on top of that
I'm tired of rap
My hearts in hip hop
When my shit drop is you copping that
Nigga the real is back
But folks still want the false
Hip hop ain't dead my nigga you could feel my pulse
I'm still alive and well but Niggas ain't listening
It's sickening
They only watching watches when they glistening
And shit I'm guilty to a certain extent
I can admit it when I'm rhyming
I be tryina fit my verses in
With what's hot
Shit ultimately what's not
Cuz ain't nobody rocking with me unless I bus shots
But I just wanna make my Dad proud
And spit raps in front of a mad crowd
That gets mad loud
And making sure that my family straight
It's FreshWorks until I die
Until that time I'm on a Grammy chase