lirik lagu rhymefest - who you talking to?
[verse: rhymefest]
when you see me talking to myself in the middle of the street
who can answer my questions better than me?
self, yes, ‘fess, is we working out today?
or laying around, scrolling on the ‘gram, working out your day?
i got some rhymes to write, and i got some bills to pay
then i turned that ps5 on, “a’ight, well, not today.”
i ain’t like this usually, talking to the future me
this looking at the present me, like “bro, what you do to me?”
“me? what’s in it for me? what’s in it for me?
what’s in it for me? “what’s in it for ” mean?”
i sat around, procrastinating, smoking weed with you
me, myself, and i, fake smiling in the team picture
i could’ve made a couple mil a long time ago
i could’ve did the same deal a long time ago
begging on my deathbed, “lord, it ain’t my time to go,”
jesus laughing at your ass, “boy, what you crying for?”
remember we was 22, wilding out, drinking goose, being loose
getting high as h~ll, without the parachute.(brand new)
cars and designer suits, wish i had the discipline to be the president like obama do
living on the front end, better look behind at you too
now you want the time to do the things you had the time to do?
“what’s in it for me? what’s in it for me?
what’s in it for me? “what’s in it for” mean?”
the diabetes type 2, can’t even see
how you survive chicago and let the sweets get you
[verse: freddie old soul]
remember the days, you would lock yourself in your room
and write bars, dinner was ready, you starved for mf doom
you was that hungry and all you had was school
ain’t even had to wash them dishes like your older sister do
used to dream it into existence, mama paying college tuitions
had a crib, but you were smoking weed and focused on distractions
“what’s in it for me?” you could’ve had a degree
went to chicago for the summer, got lost in the scene
i was mad, whole time, clark atlanta said you could leave
gpa 3.5, you chose to learn from the streets
[?] dried up; this is not 2014
you tried to move to la, but got pregnant before the leave
now, every time you try to write, the baby cries
went from ditching the studio to never having the time
but “what’s in it for me? what’s in it for me?”
your baby’s asleep, turn on the beat, and get deep
you in chicago, the winter ain’t for the weak
every time you netflix and chill, there’s a winner you gon’ see
i ain’t try to say you failed, but you made it harder
i ain’t saying don’t have fun, but you got a daughter
so many legends still here stuck in the chi
i wanna live all of my dreams, can’t keep get locked up inside
so, “what’s in it for me? what’s in it for me?”
“what’s in it for me? what’s in it for me?”
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