Escapelands by Cam the Chef Lyrics
[Produced by MF Love]
[Hook: Cam, the Chef]
They say money is the motivation
But my motive isn't
The dollar figures
But it would be nice to make a billion
Give me a place for my mind to wander
And I am chilling
Take a look inside
The futuristic mind of our children
They say money is the motivation
But my motive isn't
The dollar figures
But it would be nice to make a billion
Give me a place for my mind to wander
And I am chilling
Take a look inside
The futuristic mind (mind, mind, mind)
[Verse 1: Cam, the Chef]
My mind is blurry, 6:30 in the morn', a nigga up all early
Trying to get flirty with a bitch that resembles Jeanette McCurdy
Purposely flexing so she's admiring my greatness
Trying to hang like my necklace
In my mouth like my braces
Wait, what's the point?, I'mma cut you off when I see you naked
My heart is racing, stomach aching, even though I'm patiently waiting
For the box then I'mma hoof it to the pavement
Currently sinning for the sensation
My pops taught me how to juggle 'round a couple hoes
In the droptop, place 'em juxtapose, just to pose
So I guess I inherited it
The split up of my parents made it apparent my presence is unpleasant
So I stormed inside my room, and I slammed the door
Got FL Studio, put on my earphones and let my mind go
If I get paid for this display, then I'm cool
If I don't, shit, I guess I'll stay in school
Still escaping the landscape, fire in my ashtray
Give my niggas a handshake, this is Cam, the Chef nigga
Give these hoes no breaks
[Hook: Cam, the Chef and Morghan Taylor]
[Verse 2: Fly Kilo]
Started off with a mic from my brother
Uncle's iMac, pen and pad
Rhymes that I had and a little good luck from my mother
Crew Socks, Something Something, Song and a lover
Man I got the blues, say I'm wrong for the color
Got love for another
Love for the fam, love for the flow
And a thot named Pam
Rapping for the money and developed me a message
Ya'll head for your goal, middle finger Uncle SAam
Then it's nothing, wait, nothin I'm chilling
Drop a mean flow every time i get the feeling
It's the feeling of the rapping that I got and if i have it
I'mma make that ass jump, yeah head to the ceiling
Head to the ceiling? Feet to the ground
Bass in a flow every time I make a sound
I'mma kill 'til they're dead or close to the light
Gotta make it in the game because the music is my life
And i wanted you to know that i got you
To all my fam yea, i got you
And if i make it I'm proud to throw you a stack
Laughing at the fake fam and the fake friends
That's in to me, to my enemies, I'll catch you, no escaping
And it go RahRah RahRah wait
Shout to the thugs, straight up got love for the street
Love for the plug and a drug on god, like a little bed bug got love for the sheets
Beef ain't nothing, no vegetarian, oppisito
Swear to god i got love for the meet
Came with a flow so cold
Dumb dope head phones, finna bang
Got love for the beat
[Hook]
[Hook: Cam, the Chef]
They say money is the motivation
But my motive isn't
The dollar figures
But it would be nice to make a billion
Give me a place for my mind to wander
And I am chilling
Take a look inside
The futuristic mind of our children
They say money is the motivation
But my motive isn't
The dollar figures
But it would be nice to make a billion
Give me a place for my mind to wander
And I am chilling
Take a look inside
The futuristic mind (mind, mind, mind)
[Verse 1: Cam, the Chef]
My mind is blurry, 6:30 in the morn', a nigga up all early
Trying to get flirty with a bitch that resembles Jeanette McCurdy
Purposely flexing so she's admiring my greatness
Trying to hang like my necklace
In my mouth like my braces
Wait, what's the point?, I'mma cut you off when I see you naked
My heart is racing, stomach aching, even though I'm patiently waiting
For the box then I'mma hoof it to the pavement
Currently sinning for the sensation
My pops taught me how to juggle 'round a couple hoes
In the droptop, place 'em juxtapose, just to pose
So I guess I inherited it
The split up of my parents made it apparent my presence is unpleasant
So I stormed inside my room, and I slammed the door
Got FL Studio, put on my earphones and let my mind go
If I get paid for this display, then I'm cool
If I don't, shit, I guess I'll stay in school
Still escaping the landscape, fire in my ashtray
Give my niggas a handshake, this is Cam, the Chef nigga
Give these hoes no breaks
[Hook: Cam, the Chef and Morghan Taylor]
[Verse 2: Fly Kilo]
Started off with a mic from my brother
Uncle's iMac, pen and pad
Rhymes that I had and a little good luck from my mother
Crew Socks, Something Something, Song and a lover
Man I got the blues, say I'm wrong for the color
Got love for another
Love for the fam, love for the flow
And a thot named Pam
Rapping for the money and developed me a message
Ya'll head for your goal, middle finger Uncle SAam
Then it's nothing, wait, nothin I'm chilling
Drop a mean flow every time i get the feeling
It's the feeling of the rapping that I got and if i have it
I'mma make that ass jump, yeah head to the ceiling
Head to the ceiling? Feet to the ground
Bass in a flow every time I make a sound
I'mma kill 'til they're dead or close to the light
Gotta make it in the game because the music is my life
And i wanted you to know that i got you
To all my fam yea, i got you
And if i make it I'm proud to throw you a stack
Laughing at the fake fam and the fake friends
That's in to me, to my enemies, I'll catch you, no escaping
And it go RahRah RahRah wait
Shout to the thugs, straight up got love for the street
Love for the plug and a drug on god, like a little bed bug got love for the sheets
Beef ain't nothing, no vegetarian, oppisito
Swear to god i got love for the meet
Came with a flow so cold
Dumb dope head phones, finna bang
Got love for the beat
[Hook]