Poor Boy

Verse 1:
Trying to find the heart of my city
No pulse
So ghost
Its Gone
So im gone
Hit the right road
Take the right road
Its wrong
Till I find my heart
Till Im out this dark
Till I find my soul
Till I paint this art
Man Im never on park till I find control
Its a fact Im probably gone kill it
Shit, Me, I really don't know
Could snap here any minute
I make dope shit to unload
Got a lot of shit on this mind
Been a couple years on this grind
Ive been back and forth with it
Lacked support with this but this here is my life

Chorus:
Poor boy, poor boy
Get up
Poor boy, Get up
Get up

Verse 2:

(Cousin Feo)
Now where you gonna find a pair of rhymers
From Mid City to the Carolinas
Drop jewels you could compare to diamonds
Rare and shinning, trust me one glare will blind them cause..
I'm all polished up, no flaws now, just flawless cuts
Still on the bus, off a blunt, raw as fuck
Like where Corey Gipson at? (call'em up)
I don't play no games, so don't call my bluff
Cause i'll make them fold, pay the toll, case is closed
Back at it trying to break the mold
No hand outs, I ain't taking loans
I'm tryna pave the road till my name is gold
While you cats backwards like you aim & load
I'm in the zone like a gamer stoned
And I got them all tuned in like The Game of Thrones
Cause I'm break bones, putting stakes through you fakes and clones
In the way of this poor boy
Trying to make it home, trying to make a dollar
Trying to make her moan, trying to drop my product
Trying to make it on, so I take it on, cook it up with no apron on
So I don't know what they hating on
I said I don't know what they hating on like

Verse 3:

Yo, fuck the love
Still broke and posted up
Man, where the money
Man, where the hoes
Man, where the cars
Gone pour it up
No metaphors about diamond
We done lost our souls
We don't know about shinning
We done lost all control
These the days of our lives
These the states of my mind
Just a taste of my grind
Chase the things that I want
Work the things that I got
Meditate and I plot
Manifest what I will
Flex and study my skill
Learn to focus whats real
Only focused on yeild
Tell the gods that Im here

Chorus:
Poor boy, poor boy
Get up
Poor boy, poor boy