Food for Thought

I always kept it real with people that was fake with me You say it's food for thought, I brought this whole damn plate with me I been thinkin' 'bout that shit you said Maybe I'm wrong, maybe I need your help 'Cause I fell out of touch with real life I'm feelin' love with other bitches just to see what that shit feel like Intoxicate our mind 'til we so gone That's when I wake up sober, somethin' tellin' me, "Go home" Feel like that means somethin' Even if it don't, I just don't want you to cut me off and make it look like I be buggin' But who the fuck am I to give demands, yeah Respectfully, all the power is in your hands, yeah Insecurities cover my heart, look (huh) And different bitches just be on my thoughts, yeah Fell in love with the lifestyle mic' brought, look "Half On a Baby" was your favorite song, like yeah But I just had to fuck it up, no, it's not your fault at all Maybe you woulda done enough I guess I never had love, steady tryna test my luck Steady pourin' out my feelings and just sittin' in this cup that you fill You was the homie, I wanted to love you, but I didn't hate you Goin' state to state, was only eighteen when I first got my cake up I thought about savin' these bitches before my own damn savings Now I got to keep at least one thirty-eight bezel on my wrist (Woo) Two .38s on my hip, three, I know this ain't important But if I pop this trunk, it's 'bout .223s like James and Jordan (huh) Just needed ventilation Come fetch air with this private jet, we can go to any location Took the same pill that I took, now we can't feel our faces Numb to the pain, can't feel my face, but it's okay, I feel you Just say you're ready (woo), tone like khaki I wanna see how far down you really gon' really make it And I cannot be makin' promises, my mind been changin' I wanna knock all on your walls and see like I'm your neighbor They throwin' shots, ain't got no aim, they never even grazed us Lots of foreign cars even if it's rainin' Hoodie by Rudolph, white shoes My hoodie by Rudolph, white shoes, I step I don't plan on losin' my cool Hopped in my coupe and my roof said, "Bye" I told my goons to come through, they gon' do what they do They don't shoot at no damn sky Tequila on forty-deuce, on forty-deuce, in New York I'm that damn guy All of my cars they go vroom, so much guap all my opps wanna turn to my allies I always kept it real with people that was being fake with me These VVs hittin' like a glass of lemonade, baby I be that nigga with the juice, you say Maybe you're wrong, maybe I need your help 'Cause I feel out of touch with real life You could buy everythin' except love You gotta walk in my shoes to know what that shit feel like And then I wake up sober, look, huh --- Food for Thought - A Boogie Wit da Hoodie