TUT - Prophecy feat. Smathers

I'm back on this microphone
Y'all don't even understand what kind of life I'm on
Walking through the valley with my Nike's on
Prophecy I had to go and get my psych on
Damn a nigga try to get it making songs
I remember making blazers out of baking homes
Make the wrong tell you might not make it home
I'm tryina make a million dollars it won't take me long

I've been looking for truth, not sure if I'll ever find it
Sleep with the enemy and killer at the top of the climates
Flee to a different climate, I'm shinning like fresh up about this
Silverware at the diner, breaking out of good China
I'm as fresh as my lineup, working from Monday through Sunday
Feed the team like a coach, it's season's pisa on Monday
Swipe your peace up lord Jesus, so y'all can pay for my tension
I been pippin' since pippin, these hoes just may be the bindess
Y'all made me a villain, call me Doctor Joker
Made your lady my baby, rode her around in my stroller
Getting nick like a shoulder, about my paper like folders
Share that weed like a diamond, knows how can I take your order
On know numbers I do that, pick up that there was a stick up
Pick up your bitch with no pickup
Less she calling I don't pick up
Hands in the air this stick up
Bitch we ain't playing now we ain't asking no questions
Though we just making it stable

I'm back on this microphone
Y'all don't even understand what kind of life I'm on
Walking through the valley with my Nike's on
Prophecy I had to go and get my psych on
Damn a nigga try to get it making songs
I remember making blazers out of baking homes
Make the wrong tell you might not make it home
I'm tryina make a million dollars it won't take me long, nigga

The truth is what you hoping to find
It's hocus pocus so instead we try to focus this grind
You try to see the smoking mirrors when you open your mind
I want them hooked on these bars, I put some dope in these lines
I put some drug in your ear, I hope I'm coming in clear
See it ain't hard to tell who's sitting, running in here
They call me big papy, mami, ain't no biting in here
You know like y'all want the answer, like we talking bout practice
She got that weap pack, they say my name's on the request
You homies is local, I say that I want the atlas
You know the act is to actions
I put them ashes to ashes
We puff and pass it
Putting sound waves in the casket
Like every track it be classic
Been getting, getting them buckets
I try to kill them with comments
But they just stay on that fuck shit
I sit and chill at the brunchion, trying to function
She get baked and give them bums out
Like they fresh out the oven, yeah!

I'm back on this microphone
Y'all don't even understand what kind of life I'm on
Walking through the valley with my Nike's on
Prophecy I had to go and get my psych on
Damn a nigga try to get it making songs
I remember making blazers out of baking homes
Make the wrong tell you might not make it home
I'm tryina make a million dollars it won't take me long, nigga

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