Lyrics My Escape – Joyner Lucas

I’m the realest one I know
Tell them n**gas not to play, ayy
I got secrets that I’m taking to the grave, ayy
Sixteen first time I caught a case
Selling crack tryna get the f**k up out my mama place, ayy
N**gas trapped, I was plottin’ my escape, ooh
Gettin’ high, we was locked in outer space, ooh
I ain’t perfect, might’ve made a few mistakes
Might’ve cheated on my b**ch
But I knew she woulda stayed, ooh, ooh
Look, I’m ill-matic with a street dream
I’m a independent one-man street team
Told my b**ch keep the dishes and the sheets clean
I keep the pot full ’cause my son can’t eat steam
I’m just tryna keep my feet clean
Snitch n**gas, they be tryna keep the streets clean
Why you n**gas buy clothes full of cheap seams
I’ma shoot p0rn for the generic delete scenesI’ma suffer for the wrongs that I remember
Wrong address, the karma get brought to the sender
In a room full of artists, I get brought to the center
Shots to the armor sound like a fork in a blender
My money talk, but you don’t want to talk to the lender
My money long, the only thing short is my temper
I drive by the showcase cartin’ a fender
I’m lucky that the law never caught the offender
They tell me I learned everything the hard way, uh
If I make it to the charts it’ll be a long way, yeah
Now I look up at the charts and see a entrée
Now I look up at the charts and see a parfait
Y’all lookin’ in the mirror and see Andre
Now I look up in the mirror and see Nas, Jay and Dame
Or part Dame, way before it all changed
Way, way before the part where Roc-A-Fella part ways
I’m the realest one I know
Tell them n**gas not to play, ayy
I got secrets that I’m taking to the grave, ayy
Sixteen first time I caught a case
Selling crack tryna get the f**k up out my mama place, ayy
N**gas trapped, I was plottin’ my escape, ooh
Gettin’ high, we was locked in outer space, ooh
I ain’t perfect, might’ve made a few mistakes
Might’ve cheated on my b**ch
But I knew she woulda stayed, ooh
I keep the fiends real far from where the pills are
I keep the re-up money far from where the bills are
Achieved a lot of goals, the finish line still far
I heard beggars can’t be choosers, but you still are
I can smell it through a motherf**kin’ sealed jar
I ain’t had no time to cook it, so it’s still raw
Thou shall not kill, is that a real law
‘Cause I killed some of them n**gas
But I wanna kill moreOr should I get a drill, or hack ’em with a steel saw
I got low, but the f**k n**gas still saw
The beast old, there’s no peace, so it’s still war
You been broke, ten years later and you still poor
I only write raps still ’cause I feel bored
But ADHD still made it to the Billboard
A lot of y’all were goaltending, but I still scored
And don’t be gettin’ in on s**t that you ain’t built for
‘Cause we guerillas, yeah, we the realest, yeah
Quick to tell a motherf**ker what the deal is, yeah
Oh, you got the juice, don’t spill it, yeah
You gon’ end up like Old Man Quillis, yeah
Make a n**ga pay the price, I’ll bill it, yeah
Turn a little f**k n**ga to a spirit, yeah
Push a n**ga wig back, I’ll peel it, yeah
Make lunch out a ho with a skillet, yeah
I’m the realest one I know
Tell them n**gas not to play, ayy
I got secrets that I’m taking to the grave, ayy
Sixteen first time I caught a case
Selling crack tryna get the f**k up out my mama place, ayy
N**gas trapped, I was plottin’ my escape, ooh
Gettin’ high, we was locked in outer space, ooh
I ain’t perfect, might’ve made a few mistakes
Might’ve cheated on my b**ch
But I knew she woulda stayed, ooh…
➤ Written by Joyner Lucas
Produced by Juicebox Slim
Joyner Lucas | 2021