Lyrics 17/17 - Q Steezy

"Ya understand me?
That's why I say the process is wayyy more important
Than the actual prize
If you don't realize the prize is actually low-hanging fruit
You will forever be in search of your real purpose player"

Cmon
Fuck it

I
Just got a text from my teacher while taking his final
He must know I'm cheating
I'm waiting on my bro to stand up
And block him from seeing me
Sliding my phone in my pocket
If he asks me
"Q, were you cheating?"
I'll look at him, say, "here's an apple and have a good evening,"
Mannn
Who knows what I base my swag on?
But who's touching me with this tag on, for real

You shouldn't be allowed to griddy if you ain't from NOLA, for real
Woke up, held a plank for 4 minutes
Then cranked out some yoga
It fucked up my shoulders, for real
Is this gonna work?
How could it not?
I'm grateful I'm grateful, God gave me a lot
Home for the Holidays, no time to sleep
I treated that break like my debut, I ain't skip a beat cuz I

Realized I still ain't achieved all my goals
That was sum I had to eat on my own
Setbacks, I promise won't take those for granted
I was dishonest with myself and landed
Down on my ass, but I still paid for everything
I hit rock bottom and understood everything
Kept tryna celebrate work I ain't put in yet
Proud, but I still couldn't prove where the pudding at

I Didn't Learn, I Didn't Learn, I Didn't Learn for a while
Should I sit and burn, and say there's no purpose?
I almost threw in my towel, but
Sure enough, I rose up
Backing up, won't back down
Turned myself to a robot
I was toe' up, I'm on track now, but aye

Fuck these urinals, (huh?)
Always start flushing like bruh I'm still peeing
2014 NCAA football, my running back looked like he used to play D-end
I took my talents to Seminoles
Dad saw that shit, and he told me "delete it," (be gone!)
Won't catch me eating no edibles
I can see why
I just really just don't get the reason

Say bruh!
They try to label me, hand me the ladle please, bagel-finagling
Dame from deep!
Stepped back, shot my shot, so now she stays with me
There's two types of dogs
One ain't gone ask for no favors, the other one's craving treats
I pull up to Popeyes
Dude told me the chicken ain't ready
Like bro do you hear whatchu telling me? (huh?)

Stay with the beats like I'm celery (vegan)
She for the streets, I'm eating sesame
And I went seventeen for seventeen
Woah woah
I woulda struck out if I never went out swinging
Manifested pitches into hits 'n still ain't batted an eye
I'm back on my grind
(Man, cmon!)

"At this point, you can't deny my hit-making ability
Um
You're more of like the old school like bar guy
I'm more like a In-And-Out burger
Hold the burger
Let's just make a hit
Baow!"