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Grip - A Soldiers Story Lyrics

Yeah
My hunger to be regarded as the best is what's starvin' me to death
Partially depressed and harborin' regrets, targetin' success
Barterin' bars, bargainin' for checks
Becoming a star seems startlin', so I'm vexed, nonetheless, here I am, though
Now they shoved a rifle in my hands and threw me in some camo
And told me to go be Rambo, just 'cause you got a soul don't
Make you a soldier, every shoulder ain't equipped to bolster
The weight of a boulder, used to couldn't wait to get older
Over thirty now and jealous of Benjamin Button all of a sudden
Reversin' roles to live in reverse feel like more of a gift than a curse
Jogging your memory, revisitin' birth
And truly get a sense of what life is literally worth
I suppose what I write is like a zeitgeist for life's highs and lows
From night lights and tyke bikes to oversized girbauds
To the everyday fight through the plight and providing flows
That speak on it, these sonnets steeped in ebonics
Be modest, how y'all sleep on it? I count up likes and read comments
Some shit cut deep, some bring comic (Relief)
Social medias unfamiliar land, I recon it
Obtain the info, and what I gained was plain and simple
Watch what you feed the soul 'cause the eye remains the window
March to the best of your own drum, don't let 'em change the tempo
I came in this game with nickels, pockets in a major pickle, then made it triple
Was contemplatin' aimin' pistols or slangin' crystal
Or crack, or matter fact, any pack
Long as it brought plenty back
Baby boy ain't conform, just forged a formula then milked it, Similac
The raps is similar to Cinemax
Who said they could hold a candle to GRIP over wax?
Relax, I'm from the class
Of Hova and 3 Stacks, Pac, Nas, Big and Slim Shady
Been wavy way before 1080
Having nervous breakdowns like "I know the pen crazy
But how I'm 'posed to make them pay me?! Think, think, think, think—"
I hit up Tigg 'bout management, that's my mans and shit
I feel if anybody was equipped for the task, he could handle it
Besides the fact this nigga cool
He one of the only dudes I know that actually finished school (Damn)
And to me, that mean he finish what he start
So just stay down, my nigga, and we gon' see plenty from this art
I hit up Tu, "Let's cook from scratch, you got the beats, I got the raps"
First shit we made was "Culdesac", a classic track right off the bat
Porch came shortly after that, hardly any records scrapped
They knew that niggas was a problem, dropped "Snub'"- it was a wrap
Was s'posed to hit the road with Brent, like thirty cities on the map
Then that fuckin' 'rona hit, I lost out on thirty racks
But many people lost their lives, so how the fuck could I complain?
Feel like we moving from outside, but I feel stuck inside my brain
Is this really what I want? Am I still in love with this game?
Tigg called like, "Nigga, Eminem just said your shit was flames"
Then me and Em hopped on a call, and it all seemed fittin'
Just a couple days from quittin' and the rest is unwritten