PUSH A LITTLE HARDER

 
They told me ya never gunna make it/
Face it, never gunna be the same like a facelift face it/
Greatness, aint achievable why you waistin
hard to climb hard to shine when you in a basement
Dag nabbit, go after the dang rabbit/
I wonder in wonderland without the wonderment of Alice
Like an aurora borealis coming up out a scallop
Was handed greatness and power in the form of a chalice
Line after line, rhyme after rhyme , time after time , im gunna grind so I can shine
Leaving everything given all i got, till I hold the microphone , claimin my spot
JUST WATCH
Boy from da bay no stock yet/
Got a couple singles and they all up in my pocket/
Got a bunch people tellin that I should stop it/
Watch them disappear all up like the lockness/

I PUSH A LITTLE HARDER (X8)

O LORD THEY DONE LET ME LOOSE….
LET ME IN THE GROUP TO SPIT THE TRUTH TO GET UP ON THE MIC TO SEE WHAT I CAN DO…
THEY LIKE WHERE WOULD I BE POPPIN OUT THE LOBBY
MY SQUAD LOOKIN FRESH YEAH WE O SO COCKY
GOT ME OVER HERE LOOKIN LIKE IM HURMURABI
CLIQUED UP WIT THE KINGS AND QUEENS OF THE TAMPA POSSY
IM THE DUDE YOU NEVER KNEW IM SO FAR BEHIND THE SCENES I CLEAN UP RIGHT AFTER THE CREDITS THRU
ITS THE BOY YOUNG DRUM GOING DUM DUM LETTIN LOOSE THE HEAT THE YOUNG GUN THE FUNS DONE
BEAST ABOUT TO FEAST UP ON THE YOUNG ONES AND ALL THEY LOVE ONES
SAFER FOR YOU TO HIDE TILL THE SUN COMES CAUSE IF ITS UP TO ME I BE A FIGMENT OF YOUR MEMORY IM VERSATILE MANY FLAVORS I AINT TALKIN JELLY BEANS IMMA RIP THE GAME APART JUST TO SEE WHATS IN BETWEEN IM BREAKIN DOWN YA SOUL (SOLE)
I CALL THAT BODILY DEFEAT (THE FEET)

I PUSH A LITTLE HARDER (X8)

Long day bout to kick the feet up, the passive boy bout to turn the heat up/ preacher
Pulpit be the mic lemme speak up, pulling out the pocket proper grammar and a dessert/ Me sir a follower of Jesus and lethal dose of ether, pleaser of the god head hoping I can leave earth/ when he blows the trumpet Gallespe and Miles smile, wowed by the sound of the note played against the weaker reaper
Imma a classic eclectic lefty/ weakness left for impressing an artist, found in the back of a basement setting with a Key stroke, one strum, One pick, One thump, One slap, One bump, just gimme one month and imma set a fire you can’t run from/ Setting booths a blazing out from the crumb dumbs, to where the Huns jumps/ Searchin for another everybody finna get another one yeah!