[Verse 1]

We all on the same team, we all want the same things

We all got our own dreams, so don't do your own thing

I hate when the phone rings 'cause they wanted a home ring

I'm doin' my own thing, I'm doin' the grown thing

I'm tired of speculations, let's take it back to the basics

Before Complex was my contact

For reachin' masses on paper

Really, I spit hot shit but them f**kboys, they jack the paper

Tidal said Chance the Rapper's lil' brother debut, Speed Racer

When the commenters say I'm jocking, but my views are skyrocketing

And I like every comic that said, "lil bro, man, I f**k with this"

After that had withdrawals, man I need that shit more

Came back with Herbo, Louie, and Spenzo with Rockie, dawg

Sold out shows just to top it off

Now lil shorties that top me off

I drink Hennesy not the Voss

We live young and take every loss

Hit the streets and break all the laws

That we draw from all of our parts

And hit chase with a fake ass call



[Verse 2]

Do not act like this shit is out of character boy

You never been black in America

I am the terrorist, f**king the evidence

Ignorant negligence, part of my heritage

Using this money for jewelry and fetishes

I'm on some better shit, that be the etiquette

My life's a movie can't edit it

I do this shit with no effort, bitch

I took your girl with these predicates

I'm on my horse, and it's pegasus

Y'all don't be rapping this evident

Y'all be singing, boy, do better bitch

I should be rapping on other shit, huh

That new shit ain't sounding much better, it's dumb



[Bridge]

Aw, aw, ay

Search for what is yours

You gotta know yourself

You gotta know yourself



[Verse 3]

I spend my aching moments in closets watching for business

I feel as different, make me feel distance from any ceilings

This steeper feeling was in prison buster had his vision

I used to think something was wrong with me, that's awful, isn't it

Not in America, my grandma told me, "you're a Christian"

I know God loves me, but does my pastor know the f**king difference

I struggle often to offer myself some motivation

And even speaking to myself, I changed the conversation

I somehow kept doing this shit through all my graduations

Sold out shows and magazines across the nation

To be black's to be different, to be gay is to be hidden

To be both is to go missing, f**k the mass, I'm much different

Let me ask you this question, are you passive aggressive

Do your cousins, auntie, nieces, and nephews know all the answers

When it comes down to your skin, do you rate yourself off complection

Buy Gucci, Louis and Prada, physically count your blessings

When you cop that swag, does that make you better than next one

If it does, that's your answer, don't ever ask me this question

I'm tired of America assassinating my character

Who am I to embarrass the racist's injustice and prejudice

Rape this corrupt and arrogant broken mirror inflicting

Reflecting that buried 'em, America, sweet America



[Verse 4: Taylor Bennett]

I told y'all, I'm back on my bullshit!

I'm back on my bullshit

I just got a new pape, but still got a forklift

My bitch will be Pippen, but I don't f**k with these no more

Stay at the club with like three of my hoes

Living depressed in these suicide doors

Drop the top, now there's more levels to go

Baby, don't hug me, just open the door

In the studio stirring up, cooking the dope

I was into the bit, now I'm into some more

Niggas gon test me, I'm never gon fold

I got my block on my arm, on my soul

I got my blow on my wrist, that's my blood, ya

We got it straight out the mud

Niggas be soft with the judge

Thank God, I really been judged

I just confronted the judge

I cannot make this shit up

Know yourself, know yourself, know yourself (learn, learn)

Be yourself, be yourself, be yourself (lessons, learn)



[Outro]

And you hope you'll find when it's all about

Fallin' down on friends

And it all goes down, but you're falling out

Falling out on heads

You hope you'll find when it's all about

Fallin' down on friends