Текст песни 32 Seasons - Damone Tyrell

Wasting bars
I got visions toward the stars
I been tryna hit a homer don′t address me like you marge
(Ooo Homie)
Not ya homie
Not ya friend
Not ya buddy
Not ya pal
Knocking doors down
My kick is like pow
Straight up out a comic book
My flow is how Ebonics look
That shit ain't detailed
Broken English
Never have I been distinguished
The route I took was over long
It couldn′t be the scenic
They brag about the shit they did
But we ain't never seen it
It don't exist
Niggas say they broke they wrist
If you really whipped
You′d be a master stead you on the ship
Boat sinking
Hope shrinking
I been in the scope thinking
If I pull up on the rope
Then the bells toll
Most these niggas brag about the trap
But they sell holes
Empty promises
That go nowhere you can tell those
Please put on your shell toes
Moses parted seas the wave is present in my elbows
That′s arm swinging
I'm a goat that′s farm bringing
We getting tired of that singing and alarm ringing
We blessed to have the kinda of fortune lucky charms bringing
We gotta couple thousand dollars in the savings
I spent it all on fam cause I don't believe in saving

Long run
I been on a long run
You should get used to me now
It′s gon' be a long one
Long run
I been on a long run
You should get used to me now
It′s gon' be a long one
Nigga