(Prodigy of Mobb Deep voice)
Exhausted, head heavy,
I'm runnin' on fumes,
Starin' at the clock
while the seconds fill the room.
Ain't no time for jokes,
ain't no room for games,
Mind checked out early,
body's feelin' the same.
Cool on the surface,
but my patience growin' thin,
Caught between the workday
and where I've should've been.
Watchin' that hand circle
slow around the dial,
Prayin' time keep pushin'
for another mile.
I'm out like a scout,
on a whole new route,
Translation:
ain't no more bounce
to the ounce.
Tank on E,
every backup tapped out,
Nothin' left in me
worth talkin' about.
Eyes low, mind gone,
driftin' through the haze,
Lost in my own thoughts,
in a maze of days.
Let the world keep turnin',
I'ma stay in my lane,
Too tired to keep sparrin'
with the weight and strain.
Just me and the silence,
callin' a truce,
Waitin' on the moment
when the pressure gets loose.
Till then, feet up,
no need to pronounce it,
Ain't got nothin' left
but these final ounces.
Get some sleep,
wake up,
then I'm makin' a move,
Round up my dawgs,
let the tires find a groove.
Headed down South
to see my momma's house,
Put my boots in that clay
and see what it's about.
Backroads, red dirt,
roots buried deep,
Home got a language
that the soul can speak.
Sometimes you leave
to figure life out,
Then come back home
when you're all worn out.