I woke up early in the morning hoes blowing up my phone
Aint no use for small talking when they know Im trynna bone, Fuck em
I holla lata; man right now my minds else where
My moms healthcare, get her out this hell here
A lot of niggas fail, frail nigga wont prevail here
We seen it all men niggas cant even spell scared
A fresh prince but yo my city aint no Bel-Air
Fuck if you excel Im worried bout my welfare
So farewell to them broke days and bonjour to the most paid
So as my doe strait I throw the wifey in some Dolce
And put some chains on my niggas like I own slaves
I get up, look out the window hope the sun shining down on the niggas out there frontlinn
I hit the street and seem them boys out there locking up some older heads
said God damn homie hold your head and hold your head

Chorus:

I get up, I see the clouds from my window, I pray the sun dont shine this way
And where I go is the wind blow, momma your son gon find his way
And if I gotta crawl Imma make it to the end though
Until the top if I climb my way, and tell em imma rise
Im on my headin for the sky-im on my way

Verse Two

Yea paint a picture and show the deaf what its like to listen
And speak the words and tell the blind man what he missing
For all my niggas doing time man up in prison
Thought you had to resort to crime men *** the system!
We raising babies up in Haiti where there aint no hope
Aint no fathers dont take no scholarship to slang no dope
Politicians hollern bout problems but I aint gon vote
Keep talking bout change til we floating in the same old boat
So tell me how Im supposed to feel what the president spoke-never-
We he aint never had to struggle aint never been broke-never-
Aint even road through the ghetto aint never been close-never-
Trusting this government like trusting the devil in oath
A rebel with quotes- I Get Up!-
Lifestyles of the young black and wreckless
A generation of niggas strapped and asking questions
Like, Tell me why I aint got shit
I let these liquors fill my livers with them toxic (as I sip)

Verse Three

Yea to all my niggas paper chasing I pray for your patience-please-
Just keep the faith that you gon make it one day youll be caken
Taking this shit one step at a time
That real shit is stuck in my mind
But to that bullshit, Im deaf and Im blind
Destined to shine, Imma find a way
Cuz hey, damnit these jobs out here aint trynna pay, I pray
Granted, 9 to5 is how you survive I aint trynna survive
Im trynna throw my momma in rides
Imma provide for me seed Im the soil
Ill teach em bout loyalty
Ill teach him that his skin black like oil thats for royalty
Ill show him all the things that my pops was never showing me
Treat him like a growing tree
With this poetry I get up!
And show the sons how to lead not to follow
The present is our gift but our seeds got tomorrow
So please niggas raise your kids
And hope them overcome that bullshit they dazed us with
I blaze this shit and-

It’s also not cool to categorize rappers (or any one group for that matter) with one broad stroking brush.

perhaps you should stop, and think yourself, and the implications of your writing before you judge others.

in the first song he talks about “hoes” blowing up his phone, wanting to put his wife in dolce (maybe he should give his pone number out to “hoes” then?), and talks the standard talk about 9 to 5’s not paying enough and dropping out of school to sell dope (“you don’t need a scholarship to sell dope”)…this type of imagery isn’t progressive at all, it’s regressive. i don’t care whether all artists are political, but if you are preaching and your message creates the inference that legitimate work doesn’t pay enough (an overstatement) and make odd observation about what selling dope *doesn’t* require (creating the negative inference of, what? that you can always sell dope if you don’t get a scholarship?). it’s interesting that someone mentioned college dropout, because i had problems with some of the inferences that could be drawn from Ye songs on CD as well (the dope money is tre’s scholarship? what about the families that get destroyed by the drugs that are sold?).

my main problem with most rappers is that they seem blissfully unaware of the moral implications of what they’re implying.

when the first song started out berating some anonymous woman, i cut it off. why do i want to hear about how much some dude hates his ex? especially when there’s a preponderance of anti-woman lyrics in hip-hop anyway? can we get a more nuanced view of relationships in hip-hop?

this brother seems to be a very good writer. i’m just not certain he’s putting a great deal of thought into the implications of what he’s writing.

do u remember how LONG ago (were u a freshman?) when you gave me the city is mine track by drake? now look at him. i feel like the same is happening with j. cole. funny how many years it takes for people to see talent. and they have been grinding way before both those tracks.

good work. oh the mixtape is solid. i like a lot of tracks but grown simba is my shit and i heard the full version a few days ago from devon. in the morning is nice too.