Songtext zu 'Good Things' von Paul Russell

You know if this joint pops, so the devil of mine
Had no love for the elegant sign
Pushin' volvos down 75
And now I'm hoping that my kids skrt, relevant rides
A year ago a dude asked me, why the black kids rap?

It sounded like he never known one
Think it's hard to get perspective from the cats you ain't been chillin' with
If you ain't ever gettin' broke some
But now I'm battin' if too many people listen
I'ma think of him as just a white version of my own son
It's a black kid only hearin' struggle in the joints that he popped

Two steppin' with Balenciaga soles on
Bein' accustomed to the struggle wasn't really me
But, I started writin' articles to pay for anything
Lookin' down on kids who get it with a pretty please
Fine dinin' off of domino's and jimmy dean

My school friend bought a penthouse at 23
Tellin' me that when I'm big, I can send him things
I told him cool it with the pipe, know the chimney dreams
It was better when they only asked you petty things like

Do your tracks get airtime worldwide?
Do your voice go low like burl ives?
Do your friends all trip cause your girl fine?
Do you pull a clean whip to the turnstile?
But now they ask me if I'm ready for more

I been lookin' up to God, he said get ready for war
Or just get ready for the way to know what everything's for
Even before you're wakin' up to earn meds in the drawer
I think I said it before, at 6 months to graduation

And I don't know if this is my imagination
I been cookin' with the midi in the basement
And it still don't even make sense, yeah
Yeah, and it still don't even make sense

They say, wait for a good thing
But what the good things bring? A lot of weight
Only hate when they should be
Late nights at the races with faces who fake understood things
But don't waste such a good thing
Just make childhood dreams
Even if they hate your own, yeah, ayy

Black man get your education
But I'm still tryna make it in the hip-hop game, bruh
Back home for a celebration
And I'm still lookin' like I done forgotten where I came from
What's a ivy league rapper but, a newly, boujee
Broke kid tryna run away from chasin' pay stubs
What's a ivy league rapper but, the one kid
Who didn't dream of doin' 6 shows in the same month

Black man get your education
But I'm still tryna make it in the hip-hop game, bruh
Back home for a celebration
And I'm still lookin' like I done forgotten where I came from
What's a ivy league rapper but, a newly, boujee
Broke kid tryna run away from chasin' pay stubs
What's a ivy league rapper but, the one kid
Who didn't dream of doin' 6 shows in the same month

They say, wait for a good thing
But what the good things bring? A lot of weight
Only hate when they should be
Late nights at the races with faces who fake understood things
But don't waste such a good thing
Just make childhood dreams
Even if they hate your own, yeah, ayy

But God said hold up, whatchu mean about it?
I made the whole world, but I only speak about it
You actin' like you know what's good and decent 'bout it
But I provided everything well you was sleep or doubtin'
You missed the big shot, thinkin' you could pick or choose

I got a plan you won't believe, you just listen, dude
I got a plan that I'ma speak into existence, dude
I got a plan you couldn't speak into a sentence, dude
But you won't see it while you're in it, dude

You think you really independent
Like you did it with yo' 20 second interlude
But that's a gimmick, dude, and you got limits, too
And everything you do for you, I coulda done in middle school
But I'm eternal, and I'm knockin' over hurdles
While you write it in your journal like, 'I can't believe I made it through'

And now you scared about the way I'm gonna use you
All I do, you should be used to, I mean
What I'm supposed to say to you?
Just live, and keep your eyes on me

I'ma lead you where you need, you are my own sheep
And if I don't speak, you can still be a-okay
I'm tryna grow you, it could take all day if the well dry
Yeah, so just chill