Notes To Myself

Let me see your hands
Let me see your hands, bring em to me...

Let me see your hands, bring em to me, don't wash em yet
I wanna see the dirt you did when you overslept
Understand me perfectly clear boy
You don't need a mirror to look at someone you fear
I'm right here, the ghost of what you wish you could be
If only you let the reigns do the work for a G
I'm only saying what you know, excuse me but
You're out for dead residents to president you
Earn your stacks, set a couple new precedents, too
While your backbone's on the last train to taboo
You look like a buffoon, hang up the telephone
And get your ass back to work or call home
Tell your pops how you couldn't get it together
Because you're looking at the weather and thinking you were better
But times change, homie, learn to roll with the leaves
Or else you rot with the rocks so box with what you got
It's not what you think, what you think is what is killing you
You never knew shit, put his shoes on
If you think you learned everything, there's everything to learn
You need to pull from these fossils for this knowledge to burn
For now, that's why your underground
But we can push you to the surface like lava in a volcanic growl
But I don't think that you could handle the reknown
That's why you don't get the looks you deserve, you calm it down
You're afraid of success, you can't even see that you're excessively blessed
If you were truly grateful you would hardly complain
But we know that ain't the case, that's reality mane
That's reality mane
You need to hear the mind's a fallacy mane
Your phallus is an asterisk in a galaxy mane
I'm saying, I don't speak for the laymen
If you can't see gold in this shit, your axe ain't swinging