lirik lagu basketball. – decuma
[intro]
there’s a storm brewing…
[verse 1]
that was the only time he was proud of me, i joined the kiddie league
balled out for free every week
f*cked up my knees, cause i wanted him to be proud of me
it’s crazy how fast i went from perfect to good for nothing
spending every day with the man that abused my brothers
resentment growing for others
he told me to flex and he touched my pecs
i told him, “please don’t”
he said, “don’t talk back to mе, i’ll touch you wherever i want*”
can’t wе just watch the movie?
[verse 2]
if you can’t back out, act out
i know i lash out, spaz out
mentally lag out, la*
then i got slapped out, slapped out
imma wait till you pass out, black out
pulling the mac out, blacow
let’s see who’s a man now. man down
don’t be a rat now, assed out
this what you asked for, and what i dream bout
ain’t no peace now
rebound with a freestyle, but it seeps into the beats now
can’t sleep, and i can’t eat, imma k!ll you if it k!lls me
it’s my fantasy, and it worries me, it should worry you, ain’t you heard of me?
hold up bro, time out, time out, let me just calm down
too many people rely on me
if i get k!lled, then there lives on me
manipulation they tried on me worked when my conscious was fighting me
i’m ten, tryna save the world, who’s saving me?
you told me to pray, but it seems that god doesn’t favor me
pressure building majorly, it’s breaking me
insane to think it went this way for nary a reason
can’t get a day of peace
the shadows in the alleyways cascading terrible things
every decision is bigger than me
and so are the people actively choosing not to help me
[bridge]
i don’t think that i know how to love, so i’m sorry but
why do people treat me like a toy? what’s the point huh?
why do people treat me like a toy? what’s the point huh?
why do people treat me like a toy? what’s the point huh?
[verse 3]
i be very wary of white women
it was never about me, they like the power they can’t get in their misogynistic household
would it be too much to ask?
or would that f*ck up your fantasy, you may be less then your dad, but at least you aren’t black
right?
meat’s taste better when you hunt it
humans are persistence predators, put bluntly
how ironic, this is the one time somebody wants me
chain dangling from the neck, cracker screaming, “daddy, fu*”
that was the only time he was proud of me
he pushed me until i couldn’t stand on my own
limp and vulnerable, teary eyed, was the only time he was proud of me
balled out for free, every week
he ignored my needs and brushed off my pleads, so i just had to take that defeat and let him carry me when i didn’t even want him to touch me
and he called the carrying love
and so i thought that it was
so when it came to loving others, i had misunderstood
you want me to tell the truth? then i can’t write you a happy ending
the relationship between rappers and stolen valor is cancer
faux glamor with poor grammar, no standards
pandering to the white man in front of the cameras
it was just a n*gga’s word against hers
i didn’t stand a chance
the pressure always worked on my nerves
you watched my shaky hands
my childhood faded in a blur
i’ll never get it back
and nothing that i try ever works
and nothing ever lasts
i was told your life is a loan you need to pay forward
i’m watching n*ggas lose their lives in principle, bro, it’s typical
sh*t is centrifugal
tearing your larynx out, it’s paramount
rite of passage is inheriting the mind prison
i write ambient music because life feels like one long, dissonant drone
strike the bomb company only to lose your home
where was i supposed to go? the target you for the weakness you show
[bridge]
i found i had to die to show you i couldn’t breathe
dying became a habit displayed for others to see
identity fragmented, i didn’t know what to be
i found it never mattered as long as i wasn’t me
i found it never mattered as long as i wasn’t me
i found it never mattered as long as i wasn’t me
i found it never mattered as long as i wasn’t me
i found it never mattered as long as i wasn’t me
i am not a slave
[part ii]
[verse 1]
they told me, “let the love of god wash over me.”
they said he loves me, but something’s wrong
and as my father threateningly stands over me
he says he loves me, but something’s wrong
she doesn’t want me to think that she’s crazy
she says she loves me, but something’s wrong
they say touching me is how they tell me
that they love me, but something’s wrong
they told me, “let the love of god wash over me.”
they said he loves me, but something’s wrong
and as my father threateningly stands over me
he says he loves me, but something’s wrong
she doesn’t want me to think that she’s crazy
she says she loves me, but something’s wrong
they say touching me is how they tell me
that they love me, but something’s wrong
[verse 2]
i am not a toy
i am not a basketball that you can throw around, that you can make go through hoops
i am not something you can grab and shove in the trunk whenever you want
i am not something to leave to rot in the bas*m*nt when you’re done
i am not a toy for your amus*m*nt
it’s funny how you’re all abusive, and as such
you called the suffering love
you said the self is defined by the suffering
you said the self is defined by the suffering
the self is defined by the suffering
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