Gud Grief

I don’t know about you
But I’m not comfortable with this
They came through talking smack
But didn’t come through with shit
I was minding my own
About to get served a sandwich
But I’m mentally disturbed
I think I’ve got nerve damage
See I was loading a soul
In the neck of a trumpet
I was so upset
Cuz
At the desk on some dumb shit
I thought it was peace
But there was already beef
I’m fucking with love
Now I’m in the club armed to the teeth
I don’t know about you
But I’m not comfortable with this
I know I made some mistakes
But how’d it come to all this
The women start bailing
When your ass is trailing
The grown smart niggas know
We don’t really hail them
You listen to screams in the cell block
All the bourgeois still shell shocked
While they getting shoe shines from the bellhop
And they keep they truffle oil well stocked
And them clothes and a bag of merch
Will get you targeted for a random search
So I’m red flagged
Like a sex worker in a desk job finding jet lag
Getting foot massages from the
So I’m swinging bats like the Brooklyn Dodgers
I don’t know about you
But I’m not comfortable with this
They came through talking styles
But didn’t sound like shit
I don’t know about you
I don’t know about you