Quarantine

(I can’t be your)
(I can’t)
Yeah
I can’t be your
I can’t be your homie
I can’t be your
I can’t be your homie
How we supposed to kick it like we kick it on the lowkey
I don’t need permission, either with me or don’t know me
Switching my position, you get comfy, you get cozy
You unleashing demons, I may turn into the old me
Better get your shit before it shifts
You can’t even ball a fist
You’d acknowledge I exist
And I know you see me growing
Got your middle finger posing for the pic
You could take a piece of my soul
But at least I control any peace in my soul
I don’t lease it, I own
Shit I hate moving, shit I hate moving on
Man I hate coming home
She gave me a taste of her soul
‘Fore I take to the road
But I guess that’s how it goes
Man I hate coming home
Said I hate coming home
Shit I hate coming
I’m gone
Forge your own
You’re alone
You’re nowhere
So far gone
On my own
I’m nowhere