Groundwork - Wrekonize

Let’s go to church

You ever get that feeling

When you don’t know exactly what to do with yourself?

Hm, yeah I get that too

The idle mind’s the devil’s playground

(Let's go!)

Split frame, quit pick this lane

Fork in the road as if there is a choice to skip pain

I never could see the irony before

We’re programmed to shop before we even get inside the store

It’s sheep skin, but focus on the task at hand

I’m on the beach, I could be living out in Kazakhstan

Trying to box with a shattered hand

But I’ve been doing this before Pit was out screaming «Dammit man»

Ok, see I been holding the music

Like my woman on the death bed, please pull through this

Can’t pay the bills with my amusement

Shit I feel like B-Real, the way I see still through these illusions

At least I like the ride so far

I could be holding on the dear life with both arms like solo

Now let me stop, cause who knows the realest story

I let facts lead my acts, nobody does my feeling for me

Fame’s a bitch, yeah, well infamy’s a bleeding one

That gnaws upon your soul until you lose it and you speak in tongues

Still we chase it for the dough, when yet not squeezing one

Because props won’t save my life the day I need a gun

Break habits and you might just even make classic

Create addicts out of listeners who hate rap, huh

Well wouldn’t that be fudge Sunday

I’m trying to see the top tonight, so motherfuck some day

Stumbling 'round drunk on south beach

I’m feeling I could keep it on strong 'til the doubt cease

You catch me kicking downtown in my house cleats

And those who oppose catch Bose to the mouthpiece

Shake limits and take it to fake gimmicks

Even create image, shit do what you must to break ground

I’m in it for great living, the fanning and great giving

Man my kingdom was made to break ground

To break ground, to break ground, to break ground

To break ground, to break ground, to break ground

Ok, pass me a puff of the DMT

So I can hit it 'til I’m snapping like I’m TMZ

I do this shit here so easily

I’m ready to let go off the past now, who the fuck needs CD’s?

I attended not a one day of college

But I got enough gray hair to match a master’s mileage

You need sympathy, shit you’re out of luck

I’m riding down the block, bumping Yelawolf

And feeling arrogant as fuck

I’m loving living this Miami life

And if I go back on my word, Jesus Christ you can damn me twice

This shit’s a game show, it’s rigged to kill the audience

And set so you’re applauding it, because it’s seen a lot of hits

Like anyone can blow from one round

And how the majors wanna act like all the artists now are unsigned

The end is near, I hear the punchline

You best get started it on your bucket list, believe that I’ve begun mine

(What in the hell are they waiting for?)