huey v - separation anxiety lyrics
[intro]
(this bubba uno)
[verse 1]
got separation anxiety, i can’t control it entirely
i know i’m tired of being tied to it, something’s gotta change
‘cause i done lost too many of my soldiers to the war outside, i’m tired of keeping count of names
tired of keeping count of dates, my heart feel like calendar, eh
i been running out pages, i been running out of days
when i don’t feel a lil’ different, i can’t lie about it
i been flying autopilot and woke up to the sirens
i called my brother yesterday and told him, “stay at home”
only thing keeping him in the crib is the corona, n+gga
still making plates over the stove ’cause it came from the kitchen
nowadays i feel like i don’t even really know you, n+gga
when i grew up with you, some days we all change
just pray it’s not too late for you
i seen your son yesterday on the news, apple don’t fall far from the tree, i hope he make it through
[chorus]
b+tch, i’m doing back flips, out the gym, maxed out
mattress getting stiff on me ’cause it’s full of racks now, mm
get ’em packed out, mm, like he pacquiao
smoke that boy like black and mild, lil’ baby lungs, she tapping out i make her roll another one
and put a toast up for the underdogs
cheers, n+gga, sh+t, look how we got here
[verse 2]
ain’t none to be proud of, someone to be proud for
they seen his body after the cloud smoke
his momma keep tryna id him, but she can’t keep her eyes open
i rather be judged by 12 then carried by 6, that .9 on me
i seen the whole thing, keep quiet on ’em
i get the birds off, i don’t say a word about it
swervin’ on the interstate, they see what they heard about me
i came back from chirag with that legal purp on me
my b+tch in the passenger, she don’t know i keep the work on me
f+ck how you feel about it, ayy
my lil’ woe in the fields like a run away slave
back in them cages jim crow, back, now counting out gravestones
npd try willie lynch theory n+ggas, but i’m django
and i go where they can’t go ’cause my pack in the mail like bezo, huh
[chorus]
b+tch, i’m doing back flips, out the gym, maxed out
mattress getting stiff on me ’cause it’s full of racks now, mm
get ’em packed out, mm, like he pacquiao
smoke that boy like black and mild, lil’ baby lungs, she tapping out i make her roll another one
and put a toast up for the underdogs
cheers, n+gga, sh+t, look how we got here
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