Pockets lyrics

by

Camp Lo


[intro]
Turn it up...

[Verse]
Ma threw a birthday again (Broke.)
Feelings at risk and freedoms provoked
Ain't maintaining like other folks
Try to ease the pain, telling mother jokes
Only got me hiding the pain
Damn shame
But I keep it real in my quotes
[?] announce the feeling I feel the most
'Cause Giuliani don't play when he catch you dealing with [?]
You feel me?
It's gonna get better
But is it really?
It was better when I was young
Stealing bikes, bouncing, doing a pop-a-wheelie
Do I (A) sell drugs, get my pockets filled up
Hustle for cash, even though I might get killed up
Or do I (B) just chill... I don't need to hust-ill
C'mon down, this rap sh*t real
I'm talented plus ill
I dig in my pockets, looking for dough
Series is cancelled
No cream, I dig in much deeper, looking for answers
Pulling out lint only depresses me
'Cause everything costs [?] trying to pay rent on time especially

[pocket]
You need to get a job and keep it

I heard somebody talking, I turned around quick, I didn't peep it

[pocket]
The streets is where the dough is at though, it ain't a secret

I looked down to see my f*cking pocket speaking
I know y'all think I'm reaching
I'm like, look, I'm too high for this
Plus, everybody know the street's where the dough is at
What you a rocket scientist?
My left pocket laughs, says

[pocket]
Hahahahs, n*gga, you don't know the half
If you was really [?] pushing a [?] getting cash

[other pocket]
Or, you could be writing beats
Banging out joints in the lab...


[...song continues. TODO finish transcribing.]

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