Different Scales lyrics

[Intro]

Yeah

[Verse 1]

In pole position, had to strip it down

Was rarely fucking with the vision, they was feeding me the bread

Would come unleavened and the water only trickle down

Needed pumpernickel, wasn't fucking with the fickle minds

This shit would get bumpy over time if we pickle beets

They just want the hooks, got me out here fighting sickle cell

Niggas sound like crooks in front of cameras, I hear crickets now

Have some art commissioned more than living off the ticket sales

You for the 'Gram, we weighing this shit on different scales

No picket fence, I know we grew up on different streets

It woke me up, I know it's way more niggas counting sheep

Bouncing checks, tryna slide off the counterfeit

They hella foul, niggas out here playing county ball

Still bounty Saul, shame they'll never win a Golden Globe

Some niggas only taking naps, some niggas comatose

You get 'em fired, you find out some niggas Omaros—

[Verse 2]

Yeah, Sosa been call this shit here the zoo

Multiple elephants in the room, ain't nothing new

Poachers done settled in, they using sedatives, too

I'm still preaching the same element

Exploring business ventures with my fellowship

Eliminated the light bulbs with no filament

You ain't in my circle if we not intimate on some level

Got dumbbells on my shoulders, I folded

Drinking Folgers these days, I talk the water 'til my clothes is moldy

Bodie Broadus if came down to the wire, niggas couldn't hold me

They always talk the old you, them niggas never know me

I never owe nobody nothing but John

Who cutting onions? These days I'm all about cutting the line

Cutting through the bullshit, my nigga, it's nothing to shine

It's nothing to stunt, it's nothing to rhyme

You elevating minds or you fucking the blind and ducking the smoke?

Sup with the swine but wanna be goat, you really just sheep

You wanna be woke, you really just sleep-

Walked in front of me, man, what are these jokes?

Rich in spirit, I won' t hear it if you cunning me, bro

Tried to pass these hoes the joint, they didn't want any smoke

I wanna be blunt, when I spit out the truth

They want me to choke, they want me to front

Ruffle feathers and they'll want me to ghost

Crumble concentrates, I'm rolling for real

Sand trapping, I won't shorten my stroke

• Artist:Mick Jenkins
• Album:The Circus (2020)