That Power

All these haters

See you later

All that I could do

But you dont even feel me though

I know you know I know you got that power

That power

Oh, oh oh

So CG but a nigga stay real

Though I'm fly I'm ill I'm running shit

3-points, field goal

Rappers used to laugh like I tripped and fell

Cause I don't stunt a gold cross like I Christian bail

Yeah, they starin' at me jealous cause I do shows bigger

But your looks don't help, like an old gold digger

Uncool, but lyrically I'm a stone cold killer

So it's 400 blows to these Truffaut niggas

Yeah, now that's the line of the century

Niggas missed it, too busy, they lyin' 'bout penitentiary

Man, you ain't been there, nigga you been scared

And I'm still living single like Synclaire

Lovin' white dudes who call me white and then try to hate

When I wasn’t white enough to use your pool when I was 8

Stone Mountain, you raised me well

I’m stared at by Confederates but hard as hell

Tight jeans penny loafers, but I still drink a four dime

Staying on my me shit, but hated on by both sides

I’m just a kid who blowing up with my father’s name

And every black "you're not black enough"

Is a white "you're all the same"

Mm Food like Rapp Snitch Knishes

Cuz it's oreos, twinkies, coconuts, delicious

How many gold plaques you want inside your dining room?

I said I want a full house

They said, "You got it dude!"

All these haters

See you later

All that I could do

But you dont even feel me though

I know you know I know you got that power

That power

Oh, oh oh

Holla, holla, holla, holla at yo boy

Like yo dad when he's pissed off

Got flow, I could make a cripple crip walk

Niggas' breath stank, all they do is shit talk

People want a real man, I made 'em wait this long

Maybe if he bombs, he'll quit and keep actin'

And save paper like your aunt does with McDonald napkins

How'd it happen? Honesty did it

See all of my competition at the bodies exhibit

Yeah I bodied the limits and I deaded them fakers

Motherfuck if you hate it, cremated them haters

So, my studio be a funeral

Yeah, this is our year, oh you didn't know?

Uh, yeah I'm killin' you, step inside the lion's den

Man I'm hov if the 'O' was an 'I' instead

On stage with my family in front of me

I am what I am: everything I wanna be

All these haters

See you later

All that I could do

But you dont even feel me though

I know you know I know you got that power

That power

Oh, oh oh

This is on a bus back from camp

I’m thirteen and so are you

Before I left for camp I imagined it would be me and three or four other dudes

I hadn’t met yet, running around all summer, getting into trouble

It turned out it would be me and just one girl. That’s you

And we’re still at camp as long as we’re on the bus

And not at the pickup point where our parents would be waiting for us

We’re still wearing our orange camp t-shirts. We still smell like pineneedles

I like you and you like me and I more-than-like you

But I don’t know if you do or don’t more-than-like me

You’ve never said, so I haven’t been saying anything all summer

Content to enjoy the small miracle of a girl choosing to talk to me

And choosing to do so again the next day and so on

A girl who’s smart and funny and who, if I say something dumb for a laugh

Is willing to say something two or three times as dumb to make me laugh

But who also gets weird and wise sometimes in a way I could never be

A girl who reads books that no one’s assigned to her

Whose curly brown hair has a line running through it

From where she put a tie to hold it up while it was still wet

Back in the real world we don’t go to the same school

And unless one of our families moves to a dramatically different neighborhood

We won’t go to the same high school

So, this is kind of it for us. Unless I say something

And it might especially be it for us if I actually do say something

The sun’s gone down and the bus is quiet. A lot of kids are asleep

We’re talking in whispers about a tree we saw at a rest stop

That looks like a kid we know

And then I’m like, “Can I tell you something?”

And all of a sudden I’m telling you

And I keep telling you and it all comes out of me and it keeps coming

And your face is there and gone and there and gone

As we pass underneath the orange lamps that line the sides of the highway

And there’s no expression on it

And I think just after a point I’m just talking to lengthen the time

Where we live in a world where you haven’t said “yes” or “no” yet

And regrettably I end up using the word “destiny”

I don’t remember in what context. Doesn’t really matter

Before long I’m out of stuff to say and you smile and say, “okay”

I don’t know exactly what you mean by it, but it seems vaguely positive

And I would leave in order not to spoil the moment

But there’s nowhere to go because we’re are on a bus

So I pretend like I’m asleep and before long, I really am

I wake up, the bus isn’t moving anymore

The domed lights that line the center aisle are all on

I turn and you’re not there

Then again a lot of kids aren’t in their seats anymore

We’re parked at the pick-up point, which is in the parking lot of a Methodist church

The bus is half empty. You might be in your dad’s car by now

Your bags and things piled high in the trunk

The girls in the back of the bus are shrieking and laughing and taking their sweet time

Disembarking as I swing my legs out into the aisle to get up off the bus

Just as one of them reaches my row

It used to be our row, on our way off

It’s Michelle, a girl who got suspended from third grade for a week

After throwing rocks at my head

Adolescence is doing her a ton of favors body-wise

She stops and looks down at me

And her head is blasted from behind by the dome light, so I can’t really see her face

But I can see her smile. And she says one word: “destiny”

Then her and the girls clogging the aisles behind her all laugh

And then she turns and leads them off the bus

I didn’t know you were friends with them

I find my dad in the parking lot. He drives me back to our house and camp is over

So is summer, even though there’s two weeks until school starts

This isn’t a story about how girls are evil or how love is bad

This is a story about how I learned something and I’m not saying this thing is true or not

I’m just saying it’s what I learned

I told you something. It was just for you and you told everybody

So I learned cut out the middle man, make it all for everybody, always

Everybody can’t turn around and tell everybody, everybody already knows, I told them

But this means there isn’t a place in my life for you or someone like you

Is it sad? Sure. But it’s a sadness I chose

I wish I could say this was a story about how I got on the bus a boy

And got off a man more cynical, hardened, and mature and shit

But that’s not true. The truth is I got on the bus a boy. And I never got off the bus

I still haven’t