Yo, this beat got curves

I'mma send it a poem

I wonder if she prefer wordplay or some effortless flow

I wonder why I get nervous and second guess my pen stroke

I mean, it couldn't hurt to say hello, right?

Yo, back to the drawing board, put it on wax, wax on and off

Gotta get this shit mastered before the tour

My vocal chords and the cold season never got along

The pressure is on, nobody to lean on but the next song

So, hello keyboard, hello deep chords, goodbye before

Hello new day, hello beauty

Peace to the colors in that old bouquet

Gold bars for breakfast, spending my dough reckless

Hello to the money lenders, oh shit, I gotta go

Nobody wanna hear songs about being broke

Cop the record, see the show, rep the city, say hello

I got a homie back home, I think he's on the verge of depression

Caught between the Monday blues and the Thursday stress

Yo I could tell by how he worded his text, he in the hole

I've been in it too, so, I hope he pick up his phone

Now I ain't got no Dr. Phil knowledge

Just a promise that I'mma get at you honest

I just got a packed bag of love songs, nobody to play'em for

I'm bout to get out the lab and look around, say hello, there she go

Voice 1: I mean, you know, I have to say my main love is playing like Miles and Ornette Coleman and Coltrane and people like that when I was like 13 or 14

Voice 2: That's pretty precocious listening really, isn't it for a 13 or 14 year old. And you weren't a snob at all at the time?

Voice 1: Oh yeah. Thing is, I like music, I like hearing people who can play play, and I like hearing people who can sing sing, and really do it

Voice 2: You're actually selling me records x 3