{Intro} Cruising down the river. Dancing 'til your feet got numb. Cool, summer breezes blowing through your hair, as you stood gazing down the river in anticipation of the thrill of the dizzying rides at the amusement park. Ah, memories of Boblo Island Oh, is your world ain't nothing but a squirrel tryna get a nut. Just jealous of everybody that's headed out on that Boblo boat. It is the perfect weather and the perfect time to enjoy a few snacks. Oh, man. I wish I was joining you. A little cheese and crackers. A little get out wine. A little rear medium lights. Some Harvey Rizla green. But let's do this. Only on Smooth FM {Verse 1 – Royce da 5'9″} Nothing compared to our family trips My uncle shook hands with a manly grip All this hand-me-down sh-t I had had an uncanny fit All the gangstas I had in my family had me anti-bi-ch My granddaddy mistress caught the business from my granny fist That was back ‘fore I was born Pop told stories 'bout it that would last for hours-long And as a family we was just so happy when him and mama got along On the Boblo boat Uh, on our way to that black amusement park Wood roller coasters, crack sold on plastic scooter cards Uh, smoking gra** at the vintage food court Broken gla**, waiting on you on the swimming pool floor I came across my identity on the Boblo boat That's where I lost my virginity, no condom, though That's when paranoia hit me like when superstition does Left my inhibitions I guess where my supervision was Parties on the way to the island would be the livest, though First time big bro hit the bottle was on the Boblo boat But neither one of us knew that we would both grow up and turn to alcoholics, though The Boblo boat {Bridge} Hey, hey, hey. Lil' green. Come here. Hey, hit this, ni-ga. Ni-ga, don't worry 'bout what the fu-k it is. Just drink Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah Some of my better times I said were true I said were true, yeah Sh-t, all of my better days I said were true I said were true, sh-t And now I gotta wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up, sh-t Stuck inside a rat race, fu-k, rat race, fu-k, fu-k Wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up again Stuck inside this rat race, fu-k Yeah, look {Verse 2 – J. Cole} Twist the cap, lift the bottle back, swig it D–k it, ten-inch rims on my mama's Civic Ten-inch woofers in the trunk, to be specific They bump, rattle the license plate, plus the windows tinted Don't even give a fu-k that it's dented, bi-ch, I'm the man now I'm rolling, driving it slow as if it's stolen Piling up bros like we was clothing on a dresser Calling up hoes like we was Jodeci, let's check her Double D's like double-deckers, I wanna s** her But these keys don't come with game on how to finesse her Five semesters left until college, I'm under pressure I'm not a real ni-ga 'til I undress her, I gotta ‘press her This was my main concern back when concerns were lesser Nowadays, I often yearn to press the backspace bu*ton Or hit return, but life is not no word processor Most folks would burn the sess to burn the stress of my real-life trauma Plus fickle ni–as thinking they done heard the best of Jermaine Lamarr But that's insane, it couldn't be further left of The truth is that my new sh-t slap, you never heard it better Give me a sec, I murder sectors Prefer to let you see it rather than say it, but it spill out I gotta chill out Say “Fu-k the world” and never pull out We had no Boblo boat, but I could note those times is like a Bible quote BC, before cellphones, the first time I would smoke I was 6-years-old, but that's for another chapter That's for another story, to God be the glory I made it out unscathed and now I sunbathe with my son and Tanzanian sunrays thinking 'bout dumb days Thinking 'bout dumb days {Outro} This is 808-Ray