Angels & Demons - Locksmith, Jon Connor

Bitch, don’t even mention

If y’all go talk to God, tell him steer my intuition

Fuck y’all really gon' say?

Tell me I got a condition?

Niggas can’t hit what they can’t see

I’ma stay low to the street while I get my money

Yeah, tell 'em pray for me, bitch don’t even mention

If y’all go talk to God, tell him steer my intuition

Fuck y’all really gon' say?

Tell me I got a condition?

Niggas can’t hit what they can’t see

I’ma stay low to the street while I get my money

What is the definition of real now?

Is it determined on what you earned or you bill now?

Has it been predicated?

The people that’s dedicated to dumbin' the demograph are half of the,

like (woof)

Look at what I rose from

What do you expect when livin' under your own thumb?

How do you progress when you left in a lurch and they left you inert

So you search for your own drum?

But I come from a place where the space was cramped

I was raised in the wastes, I don’t wait for stamps

Of approval, my removal mutes you

So I move at a pace that elates my camp

I was canvassin', what I imagined then

Was a safehouse, now I come back with them

I don’t chase clout, that is an act of sin

I reenact what is fact to refract within

If I adapt to them, then my edge is gone

There’s a very thin line when the ledge is drawn

There was various times where they egged me on

But still the wounds from the past are what kept me calm

Bitch, don’t even mention

If y’all go talk to God, tell him steer my intuition

Fuck y’all really gon' say?

Tell me I got a condition?

Niggas can’t hit what they can’t see

I’ma stay low to the street while I get my money

Yeah, tell 'em pray for me, bitch don’t even mention

If y’all go talk to God, tell him steer my intuition

Fuck y’all really gon' say?

Tell me I got a condition?

Niggas can’t hit what they can’t see

I’ma stay low to the street while I get my money

What are you niggas really afraid of?

What are you benefittin' by livin' to a pay stub?

How is it beneficial, in prison, the inner issues of people who went to diss

you repent, but it’s fake love?

But a horror and what you didn’t involve 'em in

I been holdin' the psalm and then I been watchin' you bark his accomplishments

'Cause you’re a falsehood, just a

A sunk ark in the hearts of men

If you walk then your remarks are a barker bitch mark

The start’s where you faltered in

Every bar is a barge into Barça

I know to roll between a goal was far-fetched

But I’m frowned upon, I found the pawns around, upon

The large fish, underground, but strong

Self-doubt was the route that the shouts would spawn

Fuck jealous comments and the couch you on

You were never an adversary, don’t have me go have you carried

Away, the way you niggas ride is imaginary

Don’t have me get to clappin' at your capillaries

You rappers are rather bitch-made, I will have 'em buried

I just wanna be myself, respect for my reflection when I see myself

It’s a blessin', through the music, I could feed myself

And give a message to the folks that said they need my help

Look, I will never let down anybody I’m a leader to

Follow every word and take a look at where I’m leadin' you

Never idolize, I just hope your eyes recognize

Everything you see in me, I see in you

Brain food, look how good I’m feedin' you

Road to success, there’s a highway to hell, yeah, a scenic route

So my intuition got to tellin' me that bein' on the television ain’t the

validation that I need from you

Lookin' at my younger self, hopin' I would make it

Prayin' that I got a chance, if I did, I would take it

Confusin' bein' high on self with elevation

Confusin' bein' dead inside with dedication

I would never trade grace for fame, my faith remains

The Devil’s works or God’s blessings?

Pepsi, Coke?

They look the same, they both is sweet

But in the end, they don’t taste the same, so choose one

Bitch, don’t even mention

If y’all go talk to God, tell him steer my intuition

Fuck y’all really gon' say?

Tell me I got a condition?

Niggas can’t hit what they can’t see

I’ma stay low to the street while I get my money

Yeah, tell 'em pray for me, bitch don’t even mention

If y’all go talk to God, tell him steer my intuition

Fuck y’all really gon' say?

Tell me I got a condition?

Niggas can’t hit what they can’t see

I’ma stay low to the street while I get my money