Taxin’ (Long Version)

Lyrics

[Intro: Dave East] Uh, uh, uh, uh (Skrrt) Uh, uh, uh, uh (Skrrt, skrrt) Right, right (Uh) Right, right (Uh) Right, right (Uh) [Verse 1: Dave East] If it's a ghetto in Heaven, I hope there's leaked address Both pockets empty, was mad stressed The block, had to study like math test Fuck it, jump out a bucket, I'm thuggin' in public My life in a rush and nobody can touch it I climbed out the gutter eating bread and butter Jealous of my living, struggled with my mother Did it for my brother, grew up with my cousin Blew up on these niggas, they can't even stomach I ain't asked for nothing, I ain't asked for nothing I was out here hustling, nickel to a onion, onion to a plate Shadow got me zoning, conversate with omens Momma told me "Son, you nothin', need diploma" Cooking in the kitchen, crack was the aroma Pots full of powder, sit on a napkin Let it dry, we riding, any block we sliding AMG kitted I been so committed, shorty so explicit Everything I got on, you know it's expensive Everything I get on, critical condition Run up on this money, I would always listen Tryna make it happen, in front of Pooch building Early in the morning, I was waiting on a package (True story) Global now, getting bookings all across the atlas I roll up the Gladys and watch out for badges My bitch is the baddest Life is worth much more than a Patek Always elite, can't do nothing average He got in a beef, he ain't really know the game he was jacking It was like 20 degrees outside, they took off his jacket I seen a lot of my homies change up when I started rapping (A lot) I fell out with my plug 'cause he started taxin' [Interlude: Loyle Carner] Uh-huh, yeah Uh-huh One-two, one-two, one-two One-two [Verse 2: Loyle Carner] Uh, uh, 'bout time Bump Dave East on the Southside Little L.C. on the frontline Four deep in the backseat where the clouds high Brown eyes, 'bout nine All that type been about mine In the same old spot in the street where the Feds gon' watch Everybody wanna talk about grime What I knew about rap Never handled the pack (That shit's wack) I never handled the scrap But I soon got a handle at that, facts Uh, I was heavy in the flat Kids said they ready to attack, in fact One black who was runnin with the pack One smack, I was laying on my back Yo, I never could forget that beating I walked home with a limp that evening Leg broke and my head swole, bleeding Metaphor for this life I'm leading Uh, all the times I was leaving Better score for the nights I'm grieving Coach saying it was my time even No comeback season I got left with a bunch of scars I'm on a track with a younger Nas I better come correct cause everybody got a one connect But one dance, I'ma don your set I was a hoarder, what you know about bricks and the mortar? Straight to the fridge, bare ice in the water Was a private cooler ignorer Fresh haircut with a side parting and a border Not a Ridgemoor warrior Keep the champagne, not a Class A Courier Full back, not a real rap follower If it's all shat like a champagne swallower I'll leave you in a twist like Oliver When I borrow an emcee's shit, no copier I'm saying real words, don't bother you Then why won't she follow you? Saying that the streets don't love me and I love them G's don't trust me, I don't trust them Still wanna touch me, jealous that you must be Still does more pain than it does them Cause I still don't work, scrapin the dirt See it from the stains on my shirt I was raised on my J's, wasn't raised in no church Raised in the states and labeled my worth like [Outro: Loyle Carner] Uh, uh, labeled my worth like Yeah, Dave East, Loyle Carner DJ Shadow, Big Shadow, uh Uh-huh, uh-huh, yeah