Lyrics Ain't S**t - Travis Thompson
Back
when
daddy
had
the
Acura
Mama
used
to
pack
the
lunch
'Fore
I
flipped
the
tassel,
Hasselback
still
had
to
pass
for
us
'Fore
they
kill
the
tattle-tales,
Patrick
had
to
pack
for
us
'Fore
I
looked
up
in
the
sky,
saw
no
one
coming
back
for
us
And
I've
been
high
the
last
six
months
Tripping
on
southern
civics,
and
sipping
on
some
sadder
stuff
For
now,
I'm
back
and
I'm
rolling
heavy
My
city-scape
is
looking
different
My
wallet's
stiffer,
I'm
getting
faith
And
all
my
visions
is
not
as
vivid,
what
day
it
is?
My
dad
a
poet
--
the
apple's
fell
and
we
raked
it
in
And
I've
been
traveling,
spitting
switches
on
new
pavement
Packing
polo,
I'm
touring
in
Tommy's
suitcases
True
statements:
I'm
due
payment
--
them
dudes
hate
it
What
can
I
say,
we
some
redskins
with
blue
faces
And
they
talking
like
a
dude
made
it
Now
they
mood's
changing
I
said,
"If
I
ain't
shit,
what
that
make
you?"
I
said,
"Friday?
Sip.
Monday?
The
blues."
I
know
life
ain't
shit
but
a
waste
to
you
Not
my
style
(ahh-ah)
I
said,
"If
I
ain't
shit,
what
that
make
you?"
I
said,
"Friday?
Sip.
Monday?
The
blues."
I
know
life
ain't
shit
but
a
waste
to
you
Not
my
style
(ahh-ah)
And
everybody
like
me
'til
a
month
ago
Went
and
split
the
check
with
'em
They
feel
away,
they
fuckin'
broke
Fly
out
to
a
sunny
coast
Come
home
to
some
Dutch's
roll
On
the
porch
with
mama
See
her
grinning
'cause
her
son
is
home
Not
hard
to
track,
or
hard
to
find,
or
hard
to
see
But
I'm
partial
to
the
kids
I
started
with,
so
pardon
me
I
don't
fuck
with
most
'cause
rarely
do
they
go
as
hard
as
me
I
ain't
never
had
a
guest
list
If
they
here,
they
start
with
me
But
that's
just
me
though
And
who
I
keep
close
Eating
tacos
with
Tim
and
sittin'
they
chemo
Feel
like
I'm
a
kid
again:
at
Swedish
when
my
dad
is
shit
Still
don't
like
cafeteria,
nurses
--
battles
in
my
head
I
can't
escape
the
memory
Every
time
somebody
ask,
he
was
lying
in
the
tub
Sarah
like,
"What's
wrong
with
dad?",
yeah
I
don't
trip
as
much
no
more
This
check
is
good,
my
bong
is
packed
Every
time
I
leave
a
room
They
make
sure
that
it's
all
intact
My
reputation
precede
me
before
I
show
up
I'm
eating,
don't
see
no
slow
up
I
feed
off
to
see
my
goals
grow
For
where
I
be
in
a
year
Getting
shitted
on,
see
my
glow
up
Bitch,
I'm
here
and
they
hate
it
Like
3012
who
need
they
quota
I'm
a
muddafuckin'
menace
Thanks
from
Johnny,
dang
And
I
ain't
seen
a
fuckin'
dentist
since
I
had
a
job
It's
been
a
minute
Adorable?
I'm
bad,
bitches
Way,
way
back
I
seen
that
vision
Of
a
young-ass
kid
from
the
west
side
ditch
With
a
mug
like
mine,
blowing
tree
I
said,
"If...
...I
ain't
shit,
what
that
make
you?"
I
said,
"Friday?
Sip.
Monday?
The
blues."
I
know
life
ain't
shit
but
a
waste
to
you
Not
my
style
(ahh-ah)
I
said,
"If
I
ain't
shit,
what
that
make
you?"
I
said,
"Friday?
Sip.
Monday?
The
blues."
I
know
life
ain't
shit
but
a
waste
to
you
Not
my
style
(ahh-ah)
You
alright,
bro?
You
good?
(Good,
good,
good...)
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