Nothing 2 Do - Travis Thompson

Mom?

Grandpa’s passed out

Are there ants?

No

Oh, he’s okay

Woke up with my jeans on again

I know I’m fucking up

Ain’t no frame, no sheets on the bed

Aching, I stumble up

I keep missing calls on my flip

Mom know there something up

Smelling like a half-day

My stolen Levi’s get buttoned up

Integra-fitted, we’re all your least-favorite children (ayy)

Wasting our life potential 'cause fuck it: we love the feeling

We dumped our guts in yo building, leave with a souvenir

And show up to swim again, yeah

What 'partment's the closest near?

'Cause I could give a fuck your momma say we can’t hang out no more

Let me hold your transfer, shut up: I’ll be back next week at four

Yeah, they got me and it’s tragic

Man, they had to ask me for it

Group of hazmats smoking, laughing:

«Lil' homie, lemme ride yo board!»

Lil' lonely, I’dda left the porch with a forty and dub to split

It’s a party, I did no mores

But she tripping, man, fuck this bitch

Like, «If I don’t know you, please, you need to get the fuck out»

But she ain’t check her bedroom yet, so I guess we lucked out

'Cause it’s never been my job to give a fuck about you

I’m out for me, myself, and bread

So, I got nothing to prove

The worst thing they ever did was give me nothing to do

And I got nothing to do

Yeah, I’m up to no good

Said it’s never been my job to give a fuck about you

I’m out for me, myself, and bread

So, I got nothing to prove

The worst thing they ever did was give me nothing to do

And I got nothing to do

Yeah, I’m up to no good

And imma honor roll

Shoulda been poor, motherfucker

Put the block on TV, and now the school board love us

With the watered-down ranch, and them lukewarm ovens

Gotta feed 'em something real 'cause the school board doesn’t

Grandma made her fried bread, that was way before the stroke

She still tell me that she love me, think I’m famous on the road

In the courthouse since the coma, watch my cousin get the sentence

Pull me closer, make me promise: «baby, never sell no dope»

But I’m too soft for that, mammy

The coupe on the crash-landing

I poop on they stats, granny

I’m bound to win that Grammy

And making some stacks, dammit, but this ain’t «woe is me»

This is momma lost her job, so why me?

Hits in dough and cheese

And hoes in weed and golden teeth, but they see what they wanna see

Quick assuming, not the he-said, she-said, chubby, rosy cheeks

And the feelings they infer: just projecting broken dreams

I’ve been solid since the Pampers, baby

Ain’t no hoe in me

I don’t do no extra shit, I split it with those close to me

Yeah, we saw them links you sent

Shit just wasn’t dope to me

Do you feel a way?

Then fuck it, guess that’s how it’s supposed to be

If you feel a way, then fuck it, guess that’s how it’s supposed to be

'Cause it’s never been my job to give a fuck about you

I’m out for me, myself, and bread

So, I got nothing to prove

The worst thing they ever did was give me nothing to do

And I got nothing to do

Yeah, I’m up to no good

Said it’s never been my job to give a fuck about you

I’m out for me, myself, and bread

So, I got nothing to prove

The worst thing they ever did was give me nothing to do

And I got nothing to do

Yeah, I’m up to no good

Hey, what’s happening, dawg?

I was just wondering if you could take me to the store for this week, bro?

I need a ride, hit me