Rossy - Make Kids Lyrics

(Trey-yo with the drum rack) [the strippers, the liquor, fillers, and the killers
Picking God before the millions
What you think, honest opinion?
On my mom, I might go missing
Like I'm '45 Hitler
Not a fan of alcohol
My liver a fan of me
Spot a man who won't risk it all for his family
I'm included in that
But a real man got a Plan A
A Plan B, and he's gotta plan to Z
This'll probably be the best thing I make until I make kids
Everybody close to me
They always on some fake shit
I hate it-it's making me anxious
Like a gas station clerk alone working the late shift
This'll probably be the best thing I make until I make kids
Everybody close to me
They always on some fake shit
I hate it-it's making me anxious
Like seeing red and blue in the midst of a J hit
The more art one makes
The more struggle there is beneath the surface
See me hurting?
I'm bleeding from the serpents
Not even glasses can help me see my purpose
Was this even worth it?
I been feeling a ten
But to my dad
He was certainly worried what I was searching for
To grow as a person
Sometimes I feel weak
I haven't seen him in weeks
Miss the days Ricky Weeks was in the MLB
Go to Miller Park
Maybe get on TV
But I'm grown now
And I see you lacking empathy
Got less friends than enemies
I wish it went differently
Taking all things into consideration
Helicopter parent, hypocritical, conservative, low-level liberation
Forced to do school
Of course, no dedication
When the passion pollutes my brain, I forge separation
To the man of the hour:
Take these words and go practice meditation
Not a fan of alcohol
My liver a fan of me
Spot a man who won't risk it all for his family
I'm included in that
But a real man got a Plan A
A Plan B, and he's gotta plan to Z
This'll probably be the best thing I make until I make kids
Everybody close to me
They always on some fake shit
I hate it-it's making me anxious
Like a gas station clerk alone working the late shift
This'll probably be the best thing I make until I make kids
Everybody close to me
They always on some fake shit
I hate it-it's making me anxious
Like seeing red and blue in the midst of a J hit
I'm sitting in my living room currently
Vividly picturing a memory of worrying bout currency
Past tense? A worried me
Lack of adversity
To absence at 'versity
Vanished, back quick
Not even fam is sure it's me
Fastest rap stitch surgery
Advanced every tactic they once used to murder me
Spastic actions were once commanded by perversity
War-torn Germany export from ports commercially
Certainly eternity will do me no discourtesy
If God is real, I'm sure that He'd support my rap insurgency
Some tweaking 'bout comedians
Let me steep some herbal tea
I'm cool with Dave, but convos often close controversially
Pop a condom on, and drop my clothes to floor with urgency
The moment that I heard this beat, I authored bars so fervently
Got a lot of stamina for rapping laps, assuredly
Not a fan of alcohol
My liver a fan of me
Spot a man who won't risk it all for his family
I'm included in that
But a real man got a Plan A
A Plan B, and he's gotta plan to Z
This'll probably be the best thing I make until I make kids
Everybody close to me
They always on some fake shit
I hate it-it's making me anxious
Like a gas station clerk alone working the late shift
This'll probably be the best thing I make until I make kids
Everybody close to me
They always on some fake shit
I hate it-it's making me anxious
Like seeing red and blue in the midst of a J hit