[Intro] Feel like talking to myself A letter to my future self Dear me [Verse 1] Momma in my personality, my daddy's features A freak of nature with a low attention span I was It's funny how I keep looking back to find myself more Perfecting and steady finessing god's work but lost my charm with the raw Sitting back reflecting soaking in everything I've seen n***as with ball dreams Found a better deal through the bags of the green Sported in tracksuits, do what you gotta do But n***a don't be settling for coach Got love not likes for the posted with the grams I am a different man, but imma end up being the one to boast the most in the end I am, questioning my sk**s cuz being in doubt is still an actuality to me My reality, I can't aim for the root of the tree Hope you understand that Been so candid in my raps Too deep be the same that girls tell you you lack Don't ask me how I know Put the blame on the circumference of the O Now it's back to the real like Shad Moss I'm changing Got a couple of peeps waiting Never mediocre, sh** I don't think they ready Like a bouncy betty, rise than pop, confetti No wolfpack so lonely From the bottom to the top like tony Bottom to the top like tony [Hook] Watch the boy go x3 Blooming and cooling, doing what he's doing Watch the boy grow Long strides, busy nights Parents think I'm tripping, right Can't stop at the red light, x2 [Verse 2] (Blooming, cooling) I'm just giving ya'll my life, my story, my trials Tribulations, I'm not rhyming it's compilations with the best yet to come I'm not from Compton, not from Long Beach Views from the Oslo streets Clubbing with the fake ID Where you can find me If not in the stu, plotting on a grammy Looking for freaks to ink the pen with If I see a pretty chick, it's Slide under the bed sheet, please Can't I enjoy some of gods inventions Take my mind of my inventions I'm so ahead of time, grandpa style How's that possible, nevermind They say I be rushing my coming of age But forgetting my moral and ways 9 to 5, acamedic route Work like a slave to get paid There's tracks to be laid, like females I keep only one input, that's input 7 cuz I don't wanna derail Out here doing what I'm not supposed to do Rebel by heart, society tore the boy apart It's straight to the charts, no desk sitting I don't safe a sound, no I'm not tripping Hardships I'm not skipping, tryna make it with minimal a** kissing Employing the loser metaphor still I can laugh at the past Can't laugh at the fact that I can name a cla** I can't pa** f** it, I'm young and found my niche I don't care if I don't get rich Keep myself happy, can't live in insecurity This ain't no competition Baller on a budget 19 and moving, conquering life as the subject Sincelery, Oscar Blesson [Hook]