Common Ground

Will I see you? Just talkin' 'bout what I see It's not opinion based, it's just, just shit I see The suburbs are filled with ebonics and trap sonics Frat boys saying "no cap, put racks on it" The dialect got a lil' splash of some black on it Cap and gowns bought by the money in dad's pockets White girls squattin', tryna get that ass poppin' Caught back talking to their mom and dad's often Reciting rap lyrics about murder and cash profit Get to feel like a thug but don't have to act on it Local homicide rates got 'em astonished Reading 'bout it on a laptop in pajamas Microsoft Office to complete their assignments Never seen the hood still can't help but have comments Never had a convo' with a kid from that climate That really has trauma, that really got taught to survive by any means Fuck bitches, stack commas Common ground ain't that common The festivals are filled with Larry Bird jerseys College students in a hurry to jump to a four-count and say the "n word" Business interns taking molly then percs Trampling on top of bodies in dirt Condescending suburban kids growing up to be rap journalists Writing urban myths about who they think is the best urban kid And who the worst is and who's authentic And what the real hip hop is, and who's all in it Thrift shopping for articles and garments that feel like they came from a foreign environment Second hand Bape Supreme and Gallery Department Anything to feel less harmless Adderall dealers, carrying round guns just to make it feel realer House with white pillars No rough just diamonds The education private, it's all by design and Common ground ain't that common