Chance The Rapper - Fight or Flight (DJ Clyde 3 Beat Blend) lyrics

[Verse 1: Lil Herb] My momma used to say, "Never quit, baby that just don't exist!" And just cause she'll s** ya dick, don't mean you could trust the b**h! I'm just giving you the real Cause I don't come from Hollywood or Beverly Hills I'm from where mothers don't care and babies get k**ed Where you gotta rob and go steal for stomachs to fill And it's hard for a young, black n***a like myself Where the police compare oneself with everybody else So that means if you yourself they think you're everybody else So I don't care 'bout no one else Just my family and myself Yeah, that's just my way of thinkin' In my city and it helps cause no one gives a f** About me, you, or nobody else And it's cool I'm still livin' over East We still chillin', sippin' lean Smokin' swishas, stackin' hunnits to the ceilin' We still winnin' We just fightin' to survive It's a shame I gotta ride with this nina on my side They used to say... [Verse 2: Common] Rings and watches, kings deposites Chains that seemed preposterous Gettin' paper never seemed monotonous Time is money, the streets is watchin' like a scene from Clockers Fiends is nauseous, chicken wings they gossip n***as wings is tied up in dreams and product The block gets hotter when the streets is dried up We react like shottas when n***as is fired up On some James Brown sh**, I'mma take you higher To stay live n***as still livin' like The Wire A tight rope so they steppin' on that white dope I ride with my n***as cause that's the cycle Suppliers, buyers, leaning like they biased This is circus, n***as and broads wearin' wires The eye of the tiger in my iris Eyes on the prize, I'm a fighter [Verse 3: Chance The Rapper] Me and my pops shared the same home phone number Called us "single parent home", sorry, wrong number I did my push ups, and my homework, and my house work And my dirt, talk back until my mouth hurt Daddy furious, Trey hopped in the car though, close the car door Wonderin' why our father God couldn't spare Rod for Spoiler alert, Trey get out the car and walk home with his heart broke My poppa love me, ops left me Stains fed me, and they dressed me Come home freshly dressed and he addressed me And he pressed me Called me a thief, called me a boy, called me a coward At least he ain't call me from county with an hour worth of advice from my 5 day Why Doughboy couldn't have the same pops that he had on Friday? I'd rather be a real man than a real n***a, real talk