Book On My Life by That Yung Chase Lyrics
[Verse]
Once upon a time not long ago
There was a lil' brother wid a big fro, yo
Lil' Tyke about eight or nine
Surrounded my music his whole life
It was a matter of time
Before he'd write or pick up the mic
But before that Jack
Sugar Hill, yes he listened to rap
Kool G, O.G's said be cool G
Normally wrote poetry
Openly, announced that he's out to drop mouths
Make pretty girls put mouth on dick, R.I.P
Anybody that dare
Appear before this Raw Mc
Jaws hit floors every time he'd style free
Freestyle Freeman Morgan
They calling him almighty
If you talked smack, it'll get fighty
Like chicken wings niggas tryna bite him
Girls liked him
But brothers despised him
That only heightened his will to succeed
Writing more than ever now, as much as he breathed
Felt he could achieve any goal as long as he believed
In a breeze
Hooked up with Mc from school
Got on da mic began to be a pro with dat tool
Lil' man ruled
Art being created
He felt fated and stated
He hated rappers that were Overrated
More fans than talent
He was a Gallant Warrior
His mama he would worry her
Rhymes Cold, need fur
Wordplay superb ya hurt?
Time Skip
9 years later, he still a greater
Rhyme creator, a couple nigga turned traitor, and hater
But for them later
Running rat race
Cheese dangle in his face
So close that he could almost taste
But you know dreams never have taste
Isolated never really had a main
He met a brother named Ray
Till this day they close
Dreams of burning bread like toast
Not blood but still protect each other like bro's
Had goals to recreate the Golden Age
With rhymes he'll spray
His blood brother A, crazy on the keys
With beats, defeat foes
With hooks like Ali
Sting like a bee
Buzz off in a hurry
To chill with da homies who'll smoke, till they vision blurly
He wouldn't touch a L only know them W's
Lil' nigga but he still double you
Heart broke a couple times so he hates hoes too
Rolls with the crew known as da Double S B
Tryna make it big in this game, gain XP
But he still unheard
It's absurd
Sick Teen was generic
That mainstream shit sure everybody wanna hear it
For 96' he'll strayed from that
He would rather lay rappers flat, like a mat
Verses you relate to and feel
With flows ill and rhymes real
His heart he would spill
After all these years he's still the same lil' brother with the 'fro
Grown up tho'
His name T.Y.C of SSB
The youngin' tryna bring that boom bap
Fresh out da L-Cap
Uh Fresh out da L-Cap
Uh Uh
You've started to read now it's time to turn the page
You've started to read now it's time to turn the page
My life
My life
Open da book on my life
Open da book on my life
This da book on my life
Once upon a time not long ago
There was a lil' brother wid a big fro, yo
Lil' Tyke about eight or nine
Surrounded my music his whole life
It was a matter of time
Before he'd write or pick up the mic
But before that Jack
Sugar Hill, yes he listened to rap
Kool G, O.G's said be cool G
Normally wrote poetry
Openly, announced that he's out to drop mouths
Make pretty girls put mouth on dick, R.I.P
Anybody that dare
Appear before this Raw Mc
Jaws hit floors every time he'd style free
Freestyle Freeman Morgan
They calling him almighty
If you talked smack, it'll get fighty
Like chicken wings niggas tryna bite him
Girls liked him
But brothers despised him
That only heightened his will to succeed
Writing more than ever now, as much as he breathed
Felt he could achieve any goal as long as he believed
In a breeze
Hooked up with Mc from school
Got on da mic began to be a pro with dat tool
Lil' man ruled
Art being created
He felt fated and stated
He hated rappers that were Overrated
More fans than talent
He was a Gallant Warrior
His mama he would worry her
Rhymes Cold, need fur
Wordplay superb ya hurt?
Time Skip
9 years later, he still a greater
Rhyme creator, a couple nigga turned traitor, and hater
But for them later
Running rat race
Cheese dangle in his face
So close that he could almost taste
But you know dreams never have taste
Isolated never really had a main
He met a brother named Ray
Till this day they close
Dreams of burning bread like toast
Not blood but still protect each other like bro's
Had goals to recreate the Golden Age
With rhymes he'll spray
His blood brother A, crazy on the keys
With beats, defeat foes
With hooks like Ali
Sting like a bee
Buzz off in a hurry
To chill with da homies who'll smoke, till they vision blurly
He wouldn't touch a L only know them W's
Lil' nigga but he still double you
Heart broke a couple times so he hates hoes too
Rolls with the crew known as da Double S B
Tryna make it big in this game, gain XP
But he still unheard
It's absurd
Sick Teen was generic
That mainstream shit sure everybody wanna hear it
For 96' he'll strayed from that
He would rather lay rappers flat, like a mat
Verses you relate to and feel
With flows ill and rhymes real
His heart he would spill
After all these years he's still the same lil' brother with the 'fro
Grown up tho'
His name T.Y.C of SSB
The youngin' tryna bring that boom bap
Fresh out da L-Cap
Uh Fresh out da L-Cap
Uh Uh
You've started to read now it's time to turn the page
You've started to read now it's time to turn the page
My life
My life
Open da book on my life
Open da book on my life
This da book on my life