Will I see you?
Just talkin’ ’bout what I see
It’s not opinion based, it’s just, just shit I see (Uh)
The suburbs are filled with ebonics and trap sonics
Frat boys saying “no cap” “put racks on it”
The dialect got a lil splash of some black on it
Cap and gowns bought by the money in Dad’s pockets
White girls squattin’, tryn get that a- poppin
Caught back talking to their Mom and Dad’s often
Reciting rap lyrics about murder and cash profit
Get to feel like a thug but don’t have to act on it
Local homicide rates got em astonished
Reading bout it on a laptop in pajamas
Microsoft office to complete their assignments
Never seen the hood still can’t help but have comments
Never had a convo with a kid from that climate
That really has trauma, that really got taught to survive by any means fuck bitches, stack commas
Common ground ain’t that common
The festivals are filled with Larry Bird jerseys
College students in a hurry to jump to a 4 count
And say the n word
Business interns taking molly then percs
Trampling on top of bodies in dirt
Condescending suburban kids growing up to be rap journalists
Writing urban myths about who they think is the best urban kid
And who the worst is
And whos authentic
And what the real hip hop is and who’s all in it
Thrift shopping for articles and garments that feel like they came from a foreign environment
Second hand Bape Supreme and
Gallery department
Anything to feel less harmless
Adderall dealers, carrying round guns just to make it feel realer
House with white pillars
No rough just diamonds, The education private
It’s all by design and
Common ground ain’t that common
