The Trees

[Produced by OnGaud] [Verse 1: Mick Jenkins] The pink ring got a nigga feeling bossy Spit it through the wire that's flossy Dark car seats Gotta get it it's critical fuck a critic Approach is so analytical, sinning like fuck a cynic My, nigga, we heavy on the grind Burdens like boulders and sitting so heavy on my mind Curdled my shoulders from sitting so heavy in this shine Take them chains off Take the pain off Let the levees break Let's piss Wayne off with the flow Got a chainsaw for the tree and champagne flutes for the toast It's a celebration We no strangers to degradation Whatever you do partake in, the answer is elevation Don't get too high People too dependent on luck Get your house in order We like two men and a truck Its a movement Gotta keep it strategic Gotta push the margins Keep your paper collegiate Free Nation for life! I took a pledge of allegiance Gotta look out for snakes It's like the garden of Eden, in my city fam! Pretty lambs get played Like pitty pat Your hand look pretty whack, if you ain't jacking all trades! They fade you out the back like bald fades Your dog days be done But to the fleas Eat my knees I'll be running with you Breaking bread with my peoples Cos' I want it with you [Hook] My nigga you see the trees My nigga you see the leaves Well homie, I see the roots I'm only speaking the truth And they hate that And they hate that shit, my G! [Verse 2: Mick Jenkins] Youngin', been on his griggity-grind Since nine-five Skateboarding home from school Cos' moms' work nine to five And pops', 10-57 That's code For missing persons That's cold But no-one's perfect I fold The bigger person We cool They lift the curtains just to see a young, black man Blackjacking age On the tracks Stacking pages of that knowledge that they don't acknowledge That's wiggity-whack, jack Like aflac, I'm screaming at you Why you niggas ducking out the way? Probably cos' you ducking through your days! Dodging bullets from your dogs Just to run into some strays Cos' them Ben Frankie Beverly's Got you running through a maze In a daze where these little niggas Kill for the hell of it Always down to ride for the little shit they' peddling Hear the gun stutter like an ill speech impediment Bet the verbs give your itch the chills Chill, peep the rhetoric Bet them curves have us rolling 'round Chill, peep the medicine That's exactly what they came for Ginger ale and Marijuana Nice conversations sipping Zinfandel from Carolina Everything is thrifted Playing pin the tail on my designer It's 98! Chill shit for my trill niggas 98 On my back I'm in this Hilfiger Sealed liquor Off in my truck im with the homies Want no coppers catch me slippin' On my pimpin' I'm too ill nigga! All you suckas just some lil' niggas! [Outro] This rap shit just an amalgamation of a Southside nigga 91st. 79. 63rd Fuck with me Famo!