Tomorrow

I made it out the hood, seven years old, gunshots and sirens

Rapping 'cause my first beats were gunshots and sirens

Told me no snitching or you would go missing

Niggas drawing blood, called the violence artistic

I remember teachers saying everything was art

Same teacher down talking the graffiti in the park

Ebonics that I speak got her squinting when I talk

She confused by the way we fuse Webster and Pac

Mad 'cause I didn't really study a lot

But I quoted every lyric to the albums I copped

That "I ain't a killer but don't push me"

Revenge is like the sweetest joy next to getting pussy

Six years old, I ain't know about the pussy

But I was on the playground daring niggas to push me

And a slick mouth kept me in and out the principal's office

Mama walking in pissed, I was scared as hell

Told me if I spoke truth she'd provide the bail

But if I lied and she found out she'd take me to jail

Kinda harsh but it's real and I thank her for that

Yeah, the Oscar goes to her for playing mommy and dad

Little man run the house, she call me papi in fact

'Cause I stepped up, stood out and got me some racks

Mama gave up her dreams, she took one for the team

Now I'm in the game balling tryna get her a ring

I'm waiting, waiting on tomorrow

Waiting for someone to follow

Waiting on tomorrow to come

So I'll keep waiting, waiting for tomorrow

Time gets hard to borrow

Waiting for tomorrow to come

Uh, yeah, I'm tryna get us some things

Like a house en español to best unfold

Swear to God my life story is the best untold

Lyrically the rhymes I'm spitting will sell like gold

While them hating ass niggas were perplexed at home

I was in the studio tryna perfect my flow

If we talking 'bout a shotty, got the best at throwing

I'm not the next best on, I been the best since born

I was best at birth, be the best 'til the hearse

But the old heads diss me 'cause I'm young and I curse