Intro: I got homie's only eatin' when they fall through Same ones giving me they cash to get inside this booth Believe with this surgeon at the reigns, it all could change if they could speak their truth And I'm inclined to believe ‘em. My vision too Same time I think I may see these beats from a different view Without these 808's I can't convey emotion Wells up quick, now I'm choking Hoping if I focus and the timing right I mean the time is right, it'll come through what is spoken And the cycle rewind Bridge: Just like that, could it really be just like that With the city on my back from the booth in my basement? Only problem is to make it real, I can't fake sh** Verse 1: So to be real I can't take sh** Really sick and tired of being told I'm running late, sh**… And you say I sweat the small sh** But it's symptomatic of bigger patterns you won't break And no one in this world could make a man budge from the sludge but God or a damn earthquake But let me chill, I'm going hard though This beat so smooth should make me want to hit a cold note But it makes me think of you so, I guess that just means it makes it ebb and flow In a range of emotion, strange emotion Overall, I don't know where I'm going Pre-Chorus: Late Night Convo Sax for the high notes Hell yea Comes to these beats I know what to do But when it comes to you I haven't got a clue Chorus: This sound like a late night convo Low ba**, sax for the high notes I know what to do with that Hell yea, I know what to do with that Comes to these beats I know what to do Comes to you I haven't got a clue I haven't got a clue Bridge: Just like that, could it really be just like that With the city on our back from the booth in our basement? Only problem is to make it real, we can't fake sh** Verse 2: Am I the only one for you, or the best option? Not to start something, but don't ask for nothing Were you to meet another me, but from the street and with better teeth Mastery in sheets, would I still be the only chick you picture as your queem? Thoughts like these they plague me, King Your open doors bring breezes, King Truths your sword don't let it rust in it's sleeve now, King I've been praying for the day that you could lead me, King That you would say the words first without deceivment, King That we would yield unto the city such achievement, King Pre-Chorus: Late Night Convo (And you believe it, King.) Sax for the high notes (You know I mean it, King.) Hell yea (I just need for you to see it, King) Comes to these beats I know what to do (Approach the King of Kings and appropriate the thing that's really freedom, King That's really freedom, King.) But when it comes to you I haven't got a clue Chorus: This sound like a late night convo Low ba**, sax for the high notes I know what to do with that Hell yea, I know what to do with that Comes to these beats I know what to do Comes to you I haven't got a clue I haven't got a clue Hell Yea Comes to these beats I know what to do Comes to you I haven't got a clue I haven't got a clue