Monday (feat. Mac Miller)

It's Friday morning A 150 with the kiddies on the school bus, everybody's on it I got my diploma Standing in line, I pray to God I hope they choose us Or I'm back on the corner It's Friday morning A 150 with the kiddies on the school bus, everybody's on it Don't know what I'm on to But somethings shouting it's telling me "We can't stay here", everybody's goners Another 360, another 24 Another revolution, think the Earth mimicking me Finding more similarities with cosmic energy The morning vis à vis with the joint increasing my synergy Me? I'm feeling like I'm everywhere there's ever been At once when the terror takes his baby jumps beneath my feet Back to this old job again, back to this old J-O-B I wonderin' why my papa put me on this turning thing Or while I'm pondering life, let me go get this burner clean The baby's will be up sooner you think, with hunger pains So how's it, how's it, how's it that everybody who was here this time last year ain't make it this time around, so say thanks Biggie you got's to hear me now, you only got t-minus 15 before it's back into the wild Snakes they nipping at ya feet, might even peep a sheep howl I'm banging on the hoods of trains and trash cans just to catch the beat And never take for granted where you be Know it's like a junkyard now might be the safest place to sleep, but that's just temporarily I'm at ya hair like that home perm kits See I'm been in the crew, but ain't got no long term vision Sound like what's plaguing you, you, and you, and her, and him, and We's at the school and she watching us It's Friday morning A 150 with the kiddies on the school bus, everybody's on it I got my diploma Standing in line, I pray to God I hope they choose us Or I'm back on the corner It's Friday morning A 150 with the kiddies on the school bus, everybody's on it Don't know what I'm on to But somethings shouting it's telling me "We can't stay here", everybody's goners Well, I hope your hatin' ass smell the smoke before the fienders walk in My blood stream; full of burning leaves Touch screen for the birds and bees, get my options up We love to trap the thirst, but hate who might be watching us Sacrifices offered up Wifing is the alternate to nutting off in all the sluts They love whoever they around, but probably fucking all of us Listen close, hear a nigga ego fall to pieces Bitch, put something on ya feet and get to sweeping Ask me do I understand, I say "bitch do you capiche?" Try me like a piece of shit and now I'm forced to be facetious You can make a masterpiece, they be like "yeah, but who's ya feature?" Nigga, I'm my fucking feature, who the fuck are you to me? Remember knuckles used to be the tool of choice As little boys we used to use 'em just to prove that we was man enough, no matter what the damage was She dancing on the dick, she even let me use the camera And everything was cool until they kicked us outta Canada It's Friday morning A 150 with the kiddies on the school bus, everybody's on it I got my diploma Standing in line, I pray to God I hope they choose us Or I'm back on the corner It's Friday morning A 150 with the kiddies on the school bus, everybody's on it Don't know what I'm on to But somethings shouting it's telling me "We can't stay here", everybody's goners Before I started, regarded as one of the hardest in the yard No money from a job, I was distracted by these broads She said "you want that pussy then walk the plank" and I dove into that ocean, I saw her naked In the Hall of Angels, chasing lion, tigers, caught a bengal Let's finagle the bagel, ready, willing, and able Fillin' ya cable with destructions, spontaneous combustion Alien abductions, plus what the fucks in, platinum plus rappers Say "hi" when you see me, won't be say nothing after I'm a motherfucking bastard, uh Master of disguise, word to the wise: don't fuck with me You the rich and comfortably, we out back: dungaree Motherfucker please don't even think to try me My mind is somewhere else, they pumping "crazy" in my IV Yeah It's Friday morning A 150 with the kiddies on the school bus, everybody's on it I got my diploma Standing in line, I pray to God I hope they choose us Or I'm back on the corner It's Friday morning A 150 with the kiddies on the school bus, everybody's on it Don't know what I'm on to But somethings shouting it's telling me "We can't stay here", everybody's goners