Cleanin’ Up Freestyle

[Collin & Miles]
Cleanin’ up after the dead
Broken TVs, paint cans full of lead
Turn the projects into prospects
Ain’t nothin’ precious like Sidi…
Sid… Sidibe… Sidibe
Sidibe? How you say that?

Sidibe
Sidibe
Sidibe
Sidibe

Hope they no young niggas hauling my belongings when the end of me comes
This man and my mama on the drums
Sometimes seem like all we got is rhythm in the slums
This dog ain’t no millionaire, but just as rare
Tryin’ to tap dance in the rain on these niggas like Astaire
Happy on my face, in my mind I’m a scared-crow
Hung up in the hood till I’m discarded
Don’t know who I’m spookin’, I’m the one who’s spookin’ hardest
Pro'ly ‘cause I know that I’m just here to help the harvest
After that I’m a target
A mover helpin’ up the market

My bad
Come on, bruh

Gotta keep movin’ shit
Whole bunch of shit I never had
Pass
Playin’ football, wish I had my dad
You know fatherhood, that’s a passin’ fad
For you
Come on, man
Shit makes me sad