lirik lagu cole young - am i
[verse 1]
decent man, with some common flaws
now that i’m looking back, i guess i am my father’s boy
i guess got a couple problems, 1 or 2, or prolly more
i guess got a conscious, as of late, we’ve been kinda off and on
we took time apart and i don’t really know who’s bothered more
i don’t really know who offers more
i’m feeling like apostle saul
too much weighin’ on my brain and it hurts my mental
i don’t think i like that person that i’m turnin’ into
lookin’ into my mama’s eyes, she cried out her heart for me
she looked up to pray to god to break whatever hardened me
she’s got hypertension, always said it’s due in part to me
people that knew me before can’t seem to get used to the darker me
then i step out of line and take these lines from my life and write you rap bars
all because me and my team had dreams of cream and becoming high school rap stars
and smashing white girls cause we mastered black arts
hope it don’t give me a black hear
these are just another young black’s thoughts
[verse 2]
but i ain’t finished
ain’t talked to my grandmama in a minute
she could be gone at any minute
she used to call my cell phone, but i ain’t pick it
f-cked up, cause she knew she had the right digits, knew i wasn’t busy
got a message from her once when i was poppin’ pillies
got me feelin sh-tty, brushed it off real quick
in couple minutes i’ll be fine, won’t feel sh-t
my little sis looks up to me as a role model
now, that’s f-cked up cause i know she’s got her own problems
i told her that she’s wildin’ and that she should do her own thing
told me that she would, turned around and did the cole thing
walks like me, talks like me and she’s starting to become a little dark like me
and it’s not likely that she won’t be kinda off
and cold in her heart like me
i brushed off folks that loved me, ones that put nothin’ above me
now a lot think nothin’ of me, oh, god, this is f-ckin’ ugly
i just want to make it right, but lost my sense of direction
off in a senseless descension, with lack of lesson retention
born in the a with a chip on my shoulder
my d-ck in my hand, and a clip in the chrome
and a grip on the toaster, a huggie and hip as the holster
intelligent ignorant soldier
my younger self point at me and said that “i don’t wanna be this when i’m older.”
tell me when we all became colder?
i hoping that it’s not like this ’til i’m over
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