lirik lagu tune;static - currents
[part i]
[intro: jacque lorraine, conscience]
yeah
yeah
[verse: conscience]
i got the keys to life like stevie wonder
you can’t see wonder, i’m freezin’ pipes, wonder why i’m even crimes
these seas unavoidable, like, will i ever see the light?
these beats gettin’ me right though, like sly huncho, i’m squeezin’ mics
like when it’s breezin’ time, i’m floatin’ to no avail
got bars like jail cells, but i won’t get no prison mail
i hope i get my flowers, like, way before i even die
all my talent rots away with my body, and that is this demise
but it’s not my time yet to think about that life now
i only write these songs and make these raps to bite down
i make these rappers die down, mmm, yeah
if you flyin’, then i’m flyin’ too, i’m off the grid line
i’m crossin’ change of force, i get the porsche, and then the clothesline
i made this beat on my phone, so you can keep all your lines
cash flow spreadin’ like cancer, you can see all the signs
the game i [?], i’ll release all that bothers me
your life is movin’ fast, so why waste time tryna find me?
feelin’ like a prodigy, i hope my kids [?]
so save all the apologies, one day, you’ll be stayin’ callin’ me
i see my [?] followin’ me into the depths
a [?], i’m feelin’ lucid when i step in my dreams
the truth is [?] rufus wain’, yet the time just [?]
and time is useless, really, when you lose it tryna scheme
[segue]
my psyche was scarred in my art student days
[part ii]
[intro: jacque lorraine]
yeah
yeah
yeah, yeah
yeah, yeah, yeah
let me get into it for a minute, yeah
[verse: jacque lorraine & conscience]
i came back really fitted, and i’m feelin’ pretty safe
the pen marked paper, glue you to it like mache
my words scary ideas, listen what i say
they not super simple, soul ambition what i pray
the four~door 4×4, twelve feelin’ brave
motorboat our phones to coordinate another play
sittin’ in a dark room, visitin’ the days
when the check don’t bounce, and joey hittin’ parlay
stay kickin’ all day, pickin’ what i crave
not worried ’bout what’s comin’ next or when’s the next grave
i’m busy worryin’ ’bout when my day becomes great (yeah, mmm)
i take my l!cks in the storm, couple shawties did me wrong
but i came back hittin’ like the bass in my song
my brother know we’ll make it long as we ain’t go alone
so the music got emotion and a piece of our soul
bought the opposition, ended it without a pole
the people chose the rappers if you listen to the polls
a little portion after this, but this the real fold
a simple sort of adjective for when we gettin’ off (yeah)
if we say we makin’ art, the art is what we mean
came in with the sauce, the beats that defy things
a swing and a miss, you rappers can bite me
keep a batter at the plate, makin’ bread by divine means
we stayin’ in our lane, keep flashin’ the high beams
blast away your [?], hands up like triton beams
still twinnin’ with my homie, you thought we was siamese
time is tickin’, run the clock, ’cause thirteen is when i steam
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