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Crack (My Epiphany) Video (MV)




Performed By: Cashier Fresh
Language: English
Length: 1:30
Written by: Mike Dean, Joseph Johnson, Brad Jordan




Cashier Fresh - Crack (My Epiphany) Lyrics
Official




Know these rap niggas take like 6 months to give the verse back
By the time he finish, I been dropped, my fans done heard that
No excuse for the way that I act
Blame the truth for the way that I rap
I play the booth the way these boys play the trap
The producer gon' front me a pack
I lay my verse, look I just turned that to crack (That's crack!)
And I pour my soul out on the track they'll feel me when I'm extinct
Though I write this from the heart, I mix my blood in the ink
Shit that's if I even write, I'm writing songs while I think
Thoughts are symphonies, think Ima call this one My Epiphany
Thinking bout the roads that was given to we
Either the cemetery, or get sent up the road for a century
All them war scars just a blemish to me
I don't think that every bitch blushing got feelings for me
In the stu' take you to do a month what I do in a week
Hear the way I turn this shit up? You think I'd do it for free?
Nigga I do this for Ree, nigga I do this for G, C, T, Quan and me
One day they all gon see
Fruits of my labor up on the table we all gon eat
World on my shoulders surprised it ain't never fall on me
I'm 8 feet tall on beats, but shorter in person
Yeah niggas shocked when they meet me,
They just tell me keep working, shit what else can I do?
I won't stop 'till I'm perfect, if it's bout guap then it's urgent
If it's not we Do Not Disturb it (shh)
Thoughts are symphonies, think Ima call this one My Epiphany
When the ice cubes drop, look at that, that's crack!
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

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Know these rap niggas take like 6 months to give the verse back
By the time he finish, I been dropped, my fans done heard that
No excuse for the way that I act
Blame the truth for the way that I rap
I play the booth the way these boys play the trap
The producer gon' front me a pack
I lay my verse, look I just turned that to crack (That's crack!)
And I pour my soul out on the track they'll feel me when I'm extinct
Though I write this from the heart, I mix my blood in the ink
Shit that's if I even write, I'm writing songs while I think
Thoughts are symphonies, think Ima call this one My Epiphany
Thinking bout the roads that was given to we
Either the cemetery, or get sent up the road for a century
All them war scars just a blemish to me
I don't think that every bitch blushing got feelings for me
In the stu' take you to do a month what I do in a week
Hear the way I turn this shit up? You think I'd do it for free?
Nigga I do this for Ree, nigga I do this for G, C, T, Quan and me
One day they all gon see
Fruits of my labor up on the table we all gon eat
World on my shoulders surprised it ain't never fall on me
I'm 8 feet tall on beats, but shorter in person
Yeah niggas shocked when they meet me,
They just tell me keep working, shit what else can I do?
I won't stop 'till I'm perfect, if it's bout guap then it's urgent
If it's not we Do Not Disturb it (shh)
Thoughts are symphonies, think Ima call this one My Epiphany
When the ice cubes drop, look at that, that's crack!
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: Mike Dean, Joseph Johnson, Brad Jordan
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, O/B/O DistroKid, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Warner Chappell Music, Inc.


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