Reflections of my trauma in people I don’t trust

Intuition keep on screaming you really should wise up

Need them New York Deli style wise chips yup

Confidence half and half on my Chinese restaurant quart cups

Watching Harlem Prince Akeems become King block huggers

in Adidas three stripes

Hustlers dodging 3 strikes

Windshield wipers brush away the tears that fall from thee sky

Easy Yeezy baby College Dropout black on these vibes

Haters uncle ice grill me as I shine

Mekai

Rip to Phife no tribe I just glide

Headphones blasting my cries

help please

While tryna go from struggle to wealthy I gets high

Dean Cain edibles rarely touching my lips

No pen and pad Mary share my whole world in a glimpse

Cant swipe my card hop the train as I feel the suspense

My whole brain on tense

My whole body anxious

Eyes to the floor cuz I don’t talk to strangers

Can see I'm feeling powerless its in my body language

Aint have a pot to piss in 20s felt like potty training

Harlem to Canarsie or to Utica where women saved me

Spaces in they bed

Put money in my pockets

Put food in my belly gave me time more than watches

Bottom of a bottle when I treated them like options

Echos of my train conductors telling me they bout to stop us

HOOK

M-T-A

M-T-A

Tryna hustle through my struggle just to make a way

(on my)

M-T-A

M-T-A

On the days I'm feeling empty I just drift away

(on my)

M-T-A

M-T-A

Feeling like the world against me I just sit and pray

(on my)

M-T-A

M-T-A

On the days im feeling empty I just drift away

I aint the only one begging for mercy

Gorilla u-n-i-t

4 train to 2/3’s

M-J’s would transfer up at forty deuce to get to N C A aye

Aint talking Carolina kicks here

As hustlers yell showtime

I'm switching vibes

Can see the rage in my eyes like it aint 4th of July

These fireworks too early

Pain fucking up my insides

The way light and dark liquors don’t match

What’s on my mind

Was the home I'm kicked out of

Assaulted by an ex wish I could blow the brains out of

Living check to check still tryna make a quick dollar

These memories got features like I'm bumping Kaytranada

Way Before the teacher teacher was the student to my problems

Copping CDs tryna solve em

Thank God for the battery ladies gave me some solace

When mixtapes assisted in faith Christopher Wallace

I was nothing close to a saint

Boogie man in my face

Reflections I can’t escape

Staring at the door see through versions of my own face

The screeching of the train on the tracks is matching my silent cries

As I watch another line go by

M-T-A

M-T-A

Tryna hustle through my struggle just to make a way

(on my)

M-T-A

M-T-A

On the days I'm feeling empty I just drift away

(on my)

M-T-A

M-T-A

Feeling like the world against me I just sit and pray

(on my)

M-T-A

M-T-A

On the days im feeling empty I just drift away