Текст песни 1 AM in Atlanta (feat. Ahmad Anonimis) - Jr. Rhodes

Look, check
Look

I've been smoking, I've been drinking, got me thinking I've been hitting on the low
But God forbid I'm off at 10, I grab my pen and I've been sipping all alone
I write the hook and write the verse, to right my wrongs
Despite the curse, I might insert
I might alert so call the plug
I'm well immersed; what I've been going through is all rehearsed

And I aint ever getting back from a feeling like this
Every night when I would try it'd be a swing a miss
Swinging a bat, bringing it back
And matter of fact, I might have lost where I'm at
But I'm still on the track for greatness
Make this 'fore I run out of patience
Run that shit into the DAW and let me mix in the basement
Puzzling they mind when I'm feeling amazin'
I've been feeling like a king tryna chill in my space
But god damn (Damn, damn)
Man, I never hear the quiet now
Never seen a sign now
Baby god damn (Baby god damn)
But they thinking Imma lie down, wait until the time out
Coming like my carbon copy
Karma got me down and out like Forrest Gump before the army
Load me up I'll show the targets how to target
With my aim, they'll know I'll knock it down like

I've been smoking, I've been drinking, got me thinking I've been hitting on the low
But God forbid I'm off at 10, I grab my pen and I've been sipping all alone
I write the hook and write the verse, to right my wrongs
Despite the curse, I might insert
I might alert so call the plug
I'm well immersed; what I've been going through is all rehearsed

Pressure pack on me when pressure on
Dead of night, counting these deads alone
I played my cards till my credit gone
Imma open book, my pockets read me wrong
Dog the dose hit me fast, imma speed up
I done went from a gallon to liter
Show and tell, I don't follow the leader
Got my head spinning on ballerina
Why do I dance when my pockets are skinny
Dance with the devil, I might hit my shimmy
I fill the cup, got a couple shots in me
Come fill the cup, if it's up give me Henny
I eat the eddies but my boy a chimney
Hidden in leaves best believe I ain't Genin
And I got ammo
All of these shots, think I'm Rambo, damn bro

I've been smoking, I've been drinking, got me thinking I've been hitting on the low
But God forbid I'm off at 10, I grab my pen and I've been sipping all alone
I write the hook and write the verse, to right my wrongs
Despite the curse, I might insert
I might alert so call the plug
I'm well immersed; what I've been going through is all rehearsed