There It Is - Quakers, The Champs

Let’s start it off like uno, dos, I leave no trace

On some Chris Walken in the studio, explore the space

Like the keys is my pillow, my blanket’s the bass

Horn’s the comforter, drums and percussion the frame

Guitar’s the sheets where I lay, my words match

That’s how I interior decorate, got IKEA in my crate

Made my bed, I sleep in it, but the rest of the house

Is unfinished, paint peeling is my blemish, I’m living I’m certain

When I’m working wish life had a cliffnotes version

Got jobs one through twenty, guess what, they all urgent

My own everyday for a few years determined

My band play an empty show, and ain’t nothing working

Had to freestyle outside the club just to get a crowd

Lost my voice mid-set, still got homework at the house

Recording session later that night, in class I pass out

And quitting ran through my head, but then hip-hop said

«Don't go, don’t go»

Y’all ready for it?

Yeah

I bet you’ll have fun

I got down into it

There is it, there it is

Damn right

This game enforce all, sometimes you can hit the clutch and still stall

Some would crawl hands-and-knees, to travel to Belize, puff exotic trees

Take a million pictures, cheese

Sign autographs after rap, then after that a million daps

Money stacks, honeys wanting sex, kids coming back

Somehow it cracks

I guess they call that point in time a crossroads

I follow the same path my heart goes

Leading the leaders to lead elitists, over the ledge

Since a fetus, I’ve been sick with ideas in my head

Definition of The Walking Dead

Messing with those Quakers, getting my bread

I chose bitten instead, I rose, living ahead

But I’m still running outta time, funny ain’t it?

Then my life I painted, ugly of distorted portions

But she beautiful to me

Imperfection’s perfect, something I can work with

Champ’s on that grind, killing more tread than your city’s curb did