Contact (feat. Kota the Friend)

Caleborate

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    Yeah, uh
    I could feel the sin in my lungs
    The magic in my skin
    The weight on my heart
    The flame on my pen
    The chip on my shoulder that's stacking on ten
    The blood in my hand, help me run from my friends

    Oh, you got a problem, that shit happens often
    Shouldering that, tryna chase my dreams, it's so exhausting
    And I got haters acting like they ain't
    Shit in they closet, well, since we here talking, I'ma empty mine out
    Let's visit my house, no words really spoke
    Just me and aunty workin' to dig ourselves out of holes
    I wake up everyday and roll what I got left
    And if I'm all out, I know there's some on her shelf
    I know that's fuckin' low, but fuckin' low is where I'm dwellin'
    I gotta make it now 'cause if I don't, there's no tellin'
    I was 24, still sleepin' on floors
    Sneakin' girls in, still peakin' through doors
    They say I'm slatted to make it, that's not on this bank statement
    But I never even hear them, real men stay patient

    I been here five years grindin' harder than you think, man
    So if pullin' me down is even close to what you thinkin'
    Just know I'm not afraid to die for the shit that I believe in
    I'm gon' stay forever, you the one that's gon' be leavin'
    I'm gon' be heatin' up and you the one that's gon' be steamin'
    I realize when I wake, my peace of mind might be in danger
    I feel deep in my heart my biggest haters aren't strangers
    I feel they energy, they judging me for claiming berkeley
    But it meant to me what oakland meant to shore when he was 14
    I don't see why I'm defending shit that made me what you look at
    Shoutout to all the ones that show me love at all the cookouts
    And shoutout to the ones that accept me for me
    And shoutout to the homie for selling me good weed

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    You might catch a contact if you fuck around with me (yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
    Aye, shoutout to the ones that accept me for me
    And shoutout to the homie for selling me good weed
    You might catch a contact if you fuck around with me ('round me)
    Godspeed to the women that I fucked with
    Grand rising to the only one that I lay up with
    She in love with me and she don't care about no money
    My family say she gold digging, I just think it's funny
    'Cause she the only one that ever understood
    I am a museum, she just come and look
    I am like a library, she just came to read, she don't judge the books
    I be overseas, we be hella shook
    I be out for weeks at a time now

    Weeks turn months from apartment to a duplex
    New day, new stretch
    Thinkin' 'bout the past when everything was bad
    Got a baby on the way, a pregnant women on my ass
    But the feelings I don't have, and the bag I don't got yet
    Felt like I was fuckin' up a few lives, trapped in my momma crib
    Baby, baby, momma I was out of it
    Workin' out the basement, glad I made it out of there
    I could move a mountain if I want to
    I could make somebody dreams come true
    I torch the struggle like it's nothin' new
    I lit up the tunnel, I take kota in the rain and we

    Be dancin' in the puddles and he love me like a fool
    He taught me what is love
    Feel like I could never lose even when this shit is rough
    Got a woman and she's strong
    And if we have a daughter, I ain't worryin' at all
    I know she gon' be a queen, 'cause she followin' her mom

    Hey, shoutout to the ones that accept me for me
    Shoutout to the homie for selling me good weed
    You might catch a contact if you fuck around with me (yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
    So shoutout to the ones that accept me for me
    And shoutout to the homie for selling me good weed
    You might catch a contact if you fuck around with me, yeah, yeah

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