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lirik lagu trendan. - watercolors

[intro: just journey solo]
yo, uh, look

[verse 1: just journey solo]
affluent attributes of a student
with patience and virtue for his music
energized and fully charged, writing bars
rich as gold and long lasting like alkaline wrapped in plastic
he’s triple a grade, he never let his peers surpass him
flexible but non~malleable, a pro at acrobatics
a gymnast applauded for his style and creation
who flipped the script of innovation, never scripted
always painting the moments he witnessed after he awakened
in the word is wherе his faith is, never proselytizеd or sueded
he sticking to imagination, prized possession, it’s the safest
key to heart unlocked elation, he opened up through tribulations
exposed and feeling naked, it’s an art formed by the greatest
but many can be mistaken, refute it, and even shame it
tarnishing ya name, branding you as a nudist
it never made him reclusive, his fortitude made him focus
doubled down on execution, k!lled the hate, became the coldest
when he forged it with the music, spilt the blood of all opponents
he didn’t mean to do it, he repents through his atonement
but he had to show ’em that his spirit can’t be trifled with
plans to stifle him will get shot down like rifle clips
if it don’t sit well, you don’t have to stand to like him then
just know he’s an artist who ain’t tryna quit
it’s jay
[chorus: trendan.]
brushstrokes of my soul, step in puddles of the past
every color that i hold, never subtle, never last
i blend the bruises with blues, acrylic moves with the paint
if every hue is a truth, then every view is a take
brushstrokes of my soul, step in puddles of the past
every color that i hold, never subtle, never last
i blend the bruises with blues, acrylic moves with the paint
not every hue is the truth, that’s how i knew it was fake

[verse 2: trendan.]
started this at thirteen, words bleed, turned into theme songs
taught him how to talk with thoughts when dreams seemed lost
when he draws, find peace in the loops
as i speak through the beats in the booth, i can breathe strong
at thirteen, hurt seen when the curtains close
spinning in circles, old versions of verses vertigo
returning home, now i’m searching for purpose
on the verge of reversing curses for the burdens i’m too hurt to hold
watercolored consciousness, felt the canvas respond
took a glance at the gloss, handle it when damage withdraws
ain’t no peace for the prophets, i only profit off of grief
guard my art in the garden with all the hardened hearts i freed
reading in between the margins, my mind a prism of scars
scripts are written in silence, inscribed in prisoned memoirs
penchant for printing pressure, my pen pretends it’s a sword
framing flaws in the phrases, stained every letter with char
smear the spirit of a n~gga built from nothin’ made bigger
came different, he was raised by the rain and the pain swimmers
grace giver, grave digger when he trace scriptures
age fifteen, big dreams, the same brave innocent kid
a slave living in bitterness, blank sentences of stained wisdom
he stayed distant, but weight thickening
sick of wishing it change, kindle the flame fl!ckering
blisters splitting my veins, my vigorous strength tripling
the difference is, i got ambition
i know n~ggas gettin’ tired of stacking white like the michelin
victims of the system with no discipline, but then again
it’s unfortunate that they were forced in the position to be vigilant
returning guilty verdicts, rehearsing verses in chambers
when words reversing the anger, it hurts to learn from the dangers
new discoveries muted my truest colors, choose to suffer
through the clutter, grew my roots where the shovels be
a shadow of another me was bloodily beaten and bruised suddenly
reaping the fruit — gluttony, wonder what has become of me
stupid of you for loving me, my violence wasn’t justified
rushing tide of tears, i fear the silence when my mother cries
with every other line, asking for another try
trap my tragedies in tapestries, tortured a ton of times
nothing like those troubled times, mind running wild
just a lost soul, false hope, time running out
[chorus: trendan.]
brushstrokes of my soul, step in puddles of the past
every color that i hold, never subtle, never last
i blend the bruises with blues, acrylic moves with the paint
if every hue is a truth, then every view is a take
brushstrokes of my soul, step in puddles of the past
every color that i hold, never subtle, never last
i blend the bruises with blues, acrylic moves with the paint
not every hue is the truth, that’s how you knew it was tre, yeah

- lirik lagu trendan

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