Clouds

Search and you will find

Clouds, clouds, clouds

Clouds, clouds

Look around, what you see?

I see God, I see you, I see me

No facade, this is real, ain't no fakin'

Dead homies ain't coming back, we gotta make it

Welcome to the I.E.

Where summers warmer and death is normal

Funerals so frequent, half of us stop dressing formal

Where ****** pride they self on Jordans, every pair

And Supreme, same scenes I've seen like everywhere

Where kids listen to Lil Yachty over Chris Wallace

And real ones never hate on a black man with a thick wallet

That sounds like a place I just invented

'Cause it sure ain't no scrimmage

When they see you out here getting your spinach

I try to follow God and proceed to walk in his image

But groupies swallow all of it, and it's hard in this business

So get up off your ass 'cause you know you gotta get something

And rake it up 'cause snakes exist

And they'll kill you for nothing

Look, Cornbread got popped, Madlocks got popped

T2 got popped, gang sweep, knock-knock, yeah

More homies went down, meanwhile I'm not in town

I'm adjusting my crown, me and my brother created a sound

Then I found my freedom, 'cause they ain't giving out freedom

A 100 miles, I'm speeding, on 10 East, chiefin'

And I don't come out that much

Cause these little dusty ****** is beefin'

Protect us at all costs 'cause they listen to me when I'm speakin'

They love dead black bodies, popped him in his head prolly

Rap game Muhammad Ali, back to basics, Ali

I just meditate for my peace, and levitate for my piece of mind

And it works for me every time

It's a cloud for every one of our souls, just take a pick

Connected to the creator, just make a wish

I wish that all these so-called leaders would navigate

I wish the Internet didn't force us to fabricate

I wish I could clear these negative thoughts trapped in my head

Wish I could bring City, Too Much, Harold, back from the dead

TC, T2, kiss my granny while she lay in her bed

Boocho, Demi, Cousin Motor, Montre, take me instead

All these tears that I've shed, could fill the Nile River and more

I hear God inside me, I'm listening more

I got one side that wanna hold the fist high in the midst of the war

And the other hand might let this clip fly if you trip in this store

We all hypocrites wanting Heaven, ready to kick in the door

'Til the pastor touch your son

Now you don't even know what religion is for

She at Planned Parenthood

Don't know if she should get the abortion

But her baby daddy just got life with evidence missing in court

Sound like the 909, where summer's warmer and death is normal

It's funerals only time his mom could afford to dress him formal

Whoa, I had to slow it down to calculate the run-up

The real come-up is when you stop tryna come up

This a message for them simple managers and label bastards

You might get the masters but you'll never get the master

Keep the bondage, don't need the homage, don't read the comments

I don't see the hate, just feel the love

I use these clouds to build me up