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lirik lagu thomas burgundy - trail mix

[intro:]
when i die, fill my casket full of trail mix
make sure i got some basketball shorts underneath my tuxedo when you bury me momma. please

[verse 1]
yo what’s good with it?
been half proper, half hood with it
’cause they tryta put me in a box like i could fit it
but that ain’t your job, and if it is, boi you should quit it
’cause i’m like nah
and i’m an eagle scout
but if i don’t represent all that it be about
that just let ’em know, that i never took the easy route
word to al gore, ’cause the bush i never beat around
i used to tell people ’bout:
my plans, they’re like, “when tho?”
so lately i let my actions crescendo
’cause slowly they’re just getting louder than my words
now you’re concerned? i don’t need another friend tho
listen bro
this is like a nintendo 64
’cause i ain’t playing no more, but i’m finna blow
ah, so cliché and predictable
but it gets them every time like a pick & roll
my confidence is so high, it’s hitting different notes
excuse me but i think the sky got a mistletoe
and when i die, don’t cry, let ’em know
when i left, my soul was right like i’m pigeoned toed
aye son
its still glory to christ until that day comes
so homeboy your advice is like sushi samples
’cause i don’t take none
no i don’t take none
what you mean?

[interlude: pops]
whats that saying? you don’t wanna be all things… to all people… because then you end up being… nothing…”
burgundy: “to nobody?”
pops: “right. so you don’t wanna be all things to all people, cause then you’ll end up being nothing to nobody

[verse 2]
and to who’m it may concern
i b-mp bach at the crib, 2pac in the whip
in my own bracket, you cannot just predict
staples in my jacket, only shop if its thrift
half my clothes are secondhand like the watch on wrist
says its time to shine, yeah my clock’s luminous
say i got one shot, well i’m not one to miss
the last time i ain’t delivered, it was october 6th, ’96
the next day, i ain’t stopped ever since
hold up
wait
prissy chicks love the slick talk
she said, “oh my god, you smell like the thrift shop”
“what are your long term goals?”
1. be a meme
2. spread the gospel
3. be the reason that my momma likes hip hop
aye
and my condition’s only tip top
only time i see defeat is when i wear flip flops
aye
let 2 and 2 lip lock
jumped out the blue, like kriss kross tryna crip walk
i’m bob ross meets ricky ross
painting pictures on the freeway with lip gloss
cause theres no stopping when i make up my mind
ain’t no breaks from the drive
i put it down like a sick dog
and i hope you doubt that
i walk around like kobe asking where the foul at
’cause ain’t nobody touching me, my style is a fair catch
with the cheese touch- thats wimpy kid if you read much
my references are too barry bonds-
out of left field, but hit home when you get ’em dawg
this would sound a lot different if i care’d what y’all thought about it
but i don’t say it if i’m not about it
“when did you become so c-cky? like all of a sudden, why all of this stuntin’?”
i guess i’m just feelin’ myself, like if i lost my wallet or something
i promise its nothing

[refrain]
i promise its nothing..
lemme just…
i just gotta stunt.. every.. every tuesday night
is when i stunt 4 u

[verse 3]
the black folk iffy ’bout me
’cause i’m half latino
but half black, so latinos say i’m not their people
my biracial tears never meant nothing, especially to the government
uncle sam told me that i’m still not equal
but i’m
still choppin’ up ebonics with the gang members
or proper grammar with your grandmother
biggie smalls meets beethoven
jay and nas on a band cover
versatile: i’m the personification
and every verse is pure water and trail mix
’cause it ain’t what you want, its what you need
this food for thought, never sugar-coated but the flow sweet
don’t sleep, boi this is strictly for the poor kids
there’s beauty in the struggle, look i’m gorgeous
never sell my soul, you can’t afford this
no you cat afford this. no you can’t afford this
aye
same jt, i’ll never change
my laundromat knows me better than my bank
conversation with an og on the train
and he made me miss my stop, now i’m in another state…
of mind
’cause i’m just soaking up game
he told me be a social spokesman for my day
make my words stand out, they’re bold and all capitalized
and i’m straight up with it, not italicized
i ain’t your type? somethings up with your font
but i ain’t never claimed to be something i’m not
you don’t like it, i ain’t make it for you in the first place
your favorite rapper is not safe, he’s never leaving third base
like wait
requisite flex so they listen
but its still fist up for the resistance
my life is a book, don’t expect no plot twist
’cause i did it my way, thats my frank synopsis

- lirik lagu thomas burgundy

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