Things I, should've told my friends
Thought we all saw it and, knew how this would end, yet again
Ending wasn't ever understood
Word to killing everything we could, and pray we're good
Things I, should've told my friends
Thought we all saw it and, knew how this would end, yet again
Ending wasn't ever understood
Word to killing everything we could, and pray we're good

In love with living like a song of mine
But know that living off the love is only borderline
And the lines left to get across to get you more could get you lost
So they said to bring a cross like they was talking lines
Mapping out the most heinous of a way in
And you bottle your emotions like a weigh in
And waving at the thought of what they see in us, never really being us
Like we was saying hi but it was leaving us
The couple that believe in us is looking like the pair that we can stand on
And standing on your word is all that's left to put your hands on
My hands was on the wheel but we forgot to bring the cross
So all the lines that they was talking 'bout was more than what we thought
Pray to God that he forgive us and he fuck with us the long way
'Cause we just want the room screaming Stronjay, Stronjay
Word to all the Jacqueline's and all that we've attracted and
The fear that forgiveness ain't the only thing that matters and
It turns into the

And I'm perceived as sorta making it
Toast to all the imagery and all of the mistakes in it
Seeing is believing til you seen reciprocating it
Taught to hold the mirror up and never look away from it
And given what it means and everything that you can take from it
Holding out to try to find their place in it
And placing us with all the same motives but the motives got a way with us
Shame how they be lifting up away from us
And loyalty of standing with your day ones, banners with your A1's
Nike gloves rolling hand in hand with where you came from
Finger prints smeared, ambition in the air
Hands twitching and you drifting off the rhythm of despair
'Cause we grew up the same but I had a couple ringers
Like my pops ain't never leave and my moms did every scene
So the story we was shooting stayed similar indeed
But my ending might've shifted even more than we perceived
On a long list of

The kid who moms had two jobs while she was raising him
His pops got his hands dirty tryna make a way for him
Outside looking more alluring everyday to him
Swear to God all of this could've went either way with him, right
'Cause street dreams are made of these
Your heroes push Beamers, Rovers and AMG's
A drug dealer's destiny is reaching a ki'
Everybody is looking for something
Street dreams are made of these
With shorties on their knees for Louboutin's and Celine
Who am I to disagree
Everybody is looking for something