paroles de chanson Mindfolded - S.A.L.T feat. Tripple B & Bag Bunny

"Could've, would've, should've", girl, but you did not
Let these rookies lay they verse 'fore you been dropped
Shawty I ain't finna bite your style 'cause the B-Boys
Hop with the heat when I speak like they LeBron
Feel that I'm more dime than time and it's clock talk
In the lab turning out all round
Tick tock, 411 and it's pep talk
And it goes on, on, on, done, had enough
Baby I'm an asset with procrastinating habits
Rapping is my talent, I'ma fucking whizz at it
Jack of all trades, adept when flows switch I adapt
You want value, I'll add it
I'm an addict of practice
Unexampled I ain't average
Bag Bunny I'm about it
Wooh
Princess gangsta, I don't even banter
Hop in the cipher, lethal like Nina's
I'm heavy preggy with hip-hop's—
It's safe to say that I'm stuck at this point
Tried to rap, nothing came outta my throat
Might wanna consider hitting a joint
Or not, I think that'll just mess with my throat
Or lungs, my vocal cords too and my trachea
Might fall off, it's gon' be hard to get back here
Been there before and don't wanna go back there
I'm on a path I started treading last year
Yo
And I'm on a path, and I'm on the way to blow
I'm trying to write, I'm trying to pick a flow
My vision ain't clear, feel like I'm sick, oh no
I got the eye of a devil and an angel's soul
Flows in quarantine 'cause they way too sick
Pick up my notes too many songs, I can't pick
When should I drop? Maybe today or next week
I'm the Houdini of music and I do no tricks
Getting hella money like I'm Pablo
Now I can't focus on my album
I'm tryna make the green they shooting arrows
NLE the road is getting narrow
I'ma pave a way for all these young trap niggas
I'ma save the day but they'll still call me a villain
I'm the K to the I to the N to the G
I'm a G to the O to the D (facts)
"G to the O to the D", huh?
Feel that way but that's not what others see, huh
I'm alive but I don't know how to live, huh
I'm confused, gimme something to believe in
Like a truth, uh oh, I think I'm sounding like a poet
Talking 'bout the truth, I'm a good rapper, I know it
I keep it on the low, though, I won't say or show it
I pray I don't fall off in the future or blow it
Looking for lines to write
Looking for rhymes to write
Looking for time to write
Looking for crimes to commit
Lately, it's been hard to commit
Lately it's been hard to come up
With a reasonable theme to talk about and still make a hit
Lately I've been rapping
Not trapping or capping
But they're still clapping 'cause I'm still making hits
They'd vouch for me 'cause they know I can do it
I'm fluent, they know it
Although I don't show it
I have to admit I'm afraid that I'd blow it or throw it
All away when I become older
Some time before now I was becoming colder
But I'm here right now telling you to look up
Heads up, keep up
Keep driving
Don't stop, he's a cop
When he pulls you over, he might lock you up
I said not to stop
I said to keep up
I said to keep moving
"Watch out for the cops"
But you didn't listen now you're stuck in prison
And I have to pop out like jack-in-the-box
Just look at your luck
Just look at... oh God!
I have to admit, that was over the top
But just look at the state that you're in
Why the hell would you give in?
Now how could you possibly win?
How could you possibly win
When there's these racist officers trained to get under your skin?
How could you possibly win
When there's religious racists who think being black is a sin?
You see how they grin
You see how... oh wow, there's a pretty lil thing
If you would just gimme a minute
I'll be back, I mean it
I just need to check on something
Damn