Songtext Food for thought A Boogie Wit Da Hoodie

Food for thought

I always kept it real with people that was fake with me
You say it's food for thought, I brought this whole damn plate with me
I been thinkin' 'bout that shit you said
Maybe I'm wrong, maybe I need your help
'Cause I fell out of touch with real life
I'm feelin' love with other bitches just to see what that shit feel like
Intoxicated, I'm on, gets me so gone
That's when I wake up sober, somethin' tellin' me, "Go home"
Feel like that means somethin'
Even if it don't I just don't want you to cut me off and make it look like I be buggin'
But who the fuck am I to give demands, yeah
Respectfully, all the power is in your hands, yeah
Insecurities cover my heart, look (Huh)
And different bitches just be on my thoughts, yeah
Fell in love with the lifestyle mic' brought, look
"Half On a Baby" was your favorite song, yeah
But I just had to fuck it up, no, it's not your fault at all
Baby, you woulda done enough
I guess I never had love, steady tryna touch my luck
Steady pourin' out my feelings and just sittin' in this cup that you fill
You was a homie, I wanted to love you, but I didn't hate you
Goin' state to state, was only eighteen when I first got my cake up
I thought about savin' these bitches before my own damn savings
Now, I got to keep at least one thirty-eight bezel on my wrist (Woo)
Two .38s on my hip, three, I know this ain't imported
But if I pop this trunk, it's 'bout .223s like James and Jordan
And I just needed ventilation
Come fetch air with this private jet, we can go to any location
Took the same pill that I took, no, we can't build our faces
Numb to the pain, can't feel my face, but it's okay, I feel you
Just say you're ready (Woo), tone like khaki
I wanna see how far down you really gon' really make it
And I cannot be makin' promises, my mind be changin'
I wanna knock all on your walls and see like I'm your neighbour They throwin' shots, ain't got no aim, they never even grazed us
Lots of foreign cars even if it's reindeer
Hoodie by Rudolph, white shoes
My hoodie by Rudolph, white shoes, I step
I don't plan on losin' my cool
Hopped in my coupe and my roof said, "Bye"
I told my goons to come through, they gon' do what they do
They don't shoot at no damn sky
Tequila on forty-deuce, on forty-deuce in New York, I'm that damn guy
All of my cars, they go vroom, so much guap on my opps when I turn to my allies
I always kept it real with people that was being fake with me
These VVs hittin' like a glass of lemonade, baby
I be that nigga with the juice, you say
Maybe you're wrong, maybe I need your help
'Cause I feel out of touch with real life
You could buy everythin' except love
You gotta walk in my shoes to know what that shit feel like
And then I wake up sober, look, huh