Olive Branch - Locksmith

For every label they wasn’t able to place on me

For every second they second guessed & embraced phony

Niggas pitch to him every stitch is a bitch to unthread

Deeply woven, they chose to switch it as they stone me

The same Stoic & hopeless look you look upon is looked and pawned off by

defeatists since we were Fetus'

They feed us nothing but left-overs;

I stepped over with stilts and rebottled

the same Milk you once wept over

Expect nothing & no one will work as hard as you do

So I’m confused when these niggas call me & stress over

Shit they should’ve corrected before they started

They beggin' for my advice, but I’m focused on my success forward

Every mistake that I ever made was a growth point

I understand the bruise that you take when fall & don’t point

The finger or the blame on another person that’s striving to

Want others to ride, but have no idea where you drivin' to

Surprised a few, but The System here is not sufficient

The candidates just can’t negate my suspicions

Cause regardless of Race, Gender, Religion

Rapper’s co-signing a Politician is still a Politician

And the problem isn’t what most discovered

Instead of complainin' I started workin' while most would suffer

And stopped chasin' thirsty Journalist who secretly wanna be bigger than the

Artists they supposed to cover

Am I supposed to cover my ears?

Turn a blind eye when noone can find why the

fine line has lost most its buffer

The whole structure and foundation has crumbled

If you go againt the grain they accuse you of not being humble

Should I play it subtle?

Not a chance

Pretend help from these niggas became a common stance

I had to look at myself distinct

Expect to sink if you ever think they’ll extend an Olive Branch

Yeah… Fuck it

I got a message from this Rapper in my Inbox.

It started well

I responded with gratitude & respect

When he didn’t get the answer he wanted, that’s when it turned stale

Then he attacking my character in his text

I know

You can’t expect to please everybody

They ain’t satisfied til they see you bleed from your body

I can patronize or honestly speak about it

If I have to lie I’d rather leave than keep the shroud up

For 4 years I did nothing at all

Suffocated by Self-Hatred;

I externally thawed

Dropped some bars, disappeared

Write songs that you’d never hear

Then my girl got in her ear, told me «Get on your job»

Fuck it

My Mothers' gone

I might as well if I can write it well

I can slide the scale & tip it my way

Every night I wailed

But I failed to commit;

The surface was cold

And sacrificed what we had built for my personal goals

I tried to get back on the track I lagged on, but whether in that storm proved

to be the straw on the Camel’s back that we stacked on

Will it snap?

Or am I strong enough to pass on these bitches I reply through DM

& double-tap on

Now tack on the fact that I’m tryin' to complete this album

More focused with details while they more concerned with volume

How then do you explain my resilience to spit?

In other words, I was built for this shit

My nigga, this is me