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bandy andy - counting chickens lyrics

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[verse 1]
glimpses and smells of mama cooking
fish sauce, lemongr-ss, and palm sugar
grandma ate american cheese over white rice
i wish we had more convos about her life

i remember thinking termite tents was a bounce house
grew up in single digits, quiet as a small mouse
nothing changed ‘cept i got logic and a mic now
always been a nightbird, nightowl

cartoons on a sat-rday
hit the court but go o for 4
used to think i’mma be the next mugsey bogues
yao ming’s cool but he wasn’t so relatable, nah

shout out my brother alex
kept me sane and gave me a place to stay on days i was sick of working
he taught me that family was more than your blood and birthin’
i apologize for being a nuisance

uncle bill taught me not to count your chickens ‘fore they hatch
i grew up in lb, inglewood, travelling back to back
watching cars on the 405 everyday
getting up at 6 or 5 in the morning to flip the dough
my parents was busy at work more than they ever was home

my dad sleepin’ on a chair more than he do on his bed out of exhaustion
i hate that, i tell him he’s getting old, so please be cautious
he say he lived this way for forty years and got no options
so all we can do is make him proud amongst the gossip

i was just a teenager, tryna’ juggle work, acne, girls, and an essay
coming home near midnight falling in my bed smelling like coffee, croissants and chocolate cakes
falling asleep every ride home from school because this sh-t i did was critical
grinding harder than ever because i knew i needed to envision a better future

harder than hard, but had no lil’ baby
i’m sorry to the girls i hurt, i’m sorry for the fakery
i probably ruined your trust in boys for a long time
i think about it every so often, it rarely hides

i kept the pain bottled inside, no cap
tried not to flip my lid at all the snakes and the rats
see in socal i think we’re all fake to a degree
like eating tacos and having a disneyland p-ss is a personality

my parents kinda overprotective
i can’t blame ‘em when the genocide took they relatives
so they can never be too careful
the worst part is as survivors
they all had to be cheats, scammers, and liars

so i’m thankful for the struggle
i’m thankful for the people who carry me like a shuttle
i’m thankful for the opportunity to do more than just live
since everyday people dying out here as just kids

[verse 2]
senior year i got the letter that i was going to the school of my dreams
but four years later i learned that sh-t not always what it seems
i was an eager freshman when i walked onto campus with glee
but felt too different when these kids were all lighter than me

there were other asians but it was like they had less vitamin d
i would go back to my room and play my music on repeat
just to feel something that was familiar, i threw away the keys
to my heart and my insides, to every person i met i threw on a disguise

lost my motivation to be there and felt like i had failed my parents
like my grandma lost her brothers and sisters so i could just drop out, embarr-ssed
scared that my family would look at me forever just staring
and i wasn’t sure if i had crossed the line between concern and not caring

about anything, see i thought i was many things
but more than a wedding ring, what’s really unsettling
is the fact that i felt like i was n0body
and didn’t know what i could bring
to the table of anyone i was around
imposter syndrome
i was a square around these other shapes more round

i had to toughen up
mama ain’t dragged her feet in the mud in jungles running from guns so i could give up now
papa ain’t slept four hours a day so i could do less than survive, but really thrive
i realized that i was a man now, i been one since grandma moved on from our hometown into heaven
when it rains on some days i still think it’s her tears and her blessings

so i kicked through
told myself i belonged here and it was true
made it four years doing sh-t i wasn’t sure if i regretted
but life is life, so it’s all relative and dependent

graduated but still got an ident-ty crisis
i’m too asian for the white kids, for the asians i’m too cambodian and for the cambodians i’m too american
d-mn, finding my place in this world is kinda tricky

i feel like these days i just lost patience
i feel like these days i just been hating
i feel like all the sh-t i ain’t dealt with just been catching up to me
i been counting my chickens ‘fore they hatch and the ones that did ain’t clucking comfortably

i’m still angry my mama got the gun pointed at her face on the night shift
and she came back home like ain’t nothing to talk about it
like she ain’t no stranger around it
that it’s just a fact of life and that’s how we gotta live

nah
there must be something better

feel like i can’t be on my own without owing my parents everything it took to raise me
feel like if i leave home, if anything bad happen then you could blame me
feel like i owe it to every cambodian that came here, or wishes they could
to wipe my shirt, get up and prove i did good

[verse 3]
but sometimes i get angry and red on the inside
and the feelings come back to the surface ‘bout my life
that i am a child of death, a product of only circ-mstance
or that i can never live up to the footsteps that i am walking in

my girl tell me i should do therapy
but i don’t really see the use in trying to improve
my feelings when i can climb up in the noose
i’m f-cking tired

my first crush lost her life in the 3rd grade
so i learned not to hold onto anyone it’s all temporary
i don’t wanna talk about how i feel because i don’t want to be a charity
i don’t wanna die alone tho, i don’t want a stranger to bury me

i had some low points, had to fix myself up like mcgyver
i said i’m f-cking tired
everytime i meet someone i’m scared they just want something
like a relationship is only a bid to the highest buyer

who cares if i die, my existence conditional, if my people ain’t k!ll each other, then who am i?
i don’t wanna be another statistic
i can’t do that to my mama no i can not risk it
plus my people getting sent back to a country they never called home
that sh-t is terrifying so i don’t wanna be alone
and i can’t just die for nothin’
gotta make some noise like it’s percussion

i hate that every time i go out in large crowds i’m always paranoid
every time i leave home my dad say “be careful” instead of “have fun”
every time i go out i’m scared i won’t return home
i hate the sound of fireworks

i fear death
and i think sometimes that’s what keeps me going
as nice as it’d be to stop the pain and all the hurting
feeling nothing is worse than feeling aversion

i don’t know how i made it this far
my dubs just been a reach like i was ristar
used to stay calm but now i’m getting really p-ssed off
so i bang it on the drum pads like i’m christo

i’m thankful that i can wake up everyday
i’m thankful that i got a place that i can stay
i’m thankful that i got a seat and a plate
i’m thankful that i’m alive and got a brain
counting chickens before they hatch, hope i don’t make the same mistake
i said i just been counting chickens before they hatch, hope i don’t make the same mistake

[outro]
(birds chirping)

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