(Verse 1)
Tropical trees, I close my eyes and imagine to try to block out police
Hear the sirens, hear the screams, hear that *gun shot noise*,
Them streets, they never sleep
Remember somebody told ain't nothing out there to see
So lay lower than all yo windows or laying in six feet
Between gun shots and my granddaddy I learned to get on my knees
He told me just close your eyes whenever you seek peace
But I could still hear the girl next door sounding like she gettin' beat
Still hear them babies crying, they momma just sixteen
And bass thumpin' from headlights that cut off at the end of my street
And he'd kneel down right next to me and told me baby repeat
"Now I lay my burdens down before I go to sleep.."
I'd go to sleep and go with sheep til heaven never seemed so close
Off the coast city livin' never seemed so broke
Hear boats in the distance come back to my senses, hit the alarm..

(Hook)
Tired of dreamin, tired of dreamin
Niggas be schemin you can be next to a heathen who..
Tired of dreamin, Tried believin, Tired of breathin
So he pull out and yell, "If you wanna live better reach for the sky",
"This is a stick up nigga, this is a stick up"
If you wanna live better reach for the sky
This is a stick up nigga (hit the alarm)

(Verse 2)
Palm trees, palms please get to itchin' or somethin'
Lord I hate to bitchin' for somethin', understand you busy with somethin
It just gets hard giving everything and ending up with nothing
I remember when I held my first hand
And how it felt to sneak and give away my first kiss
Nowadays its hard for me to say I feel shit
I just be tryna fill my glass to the top of the brim
Its somethin 'bout that full champagne glass shit
Feels legendary everytime I take a sip
Take shots and yell "mo' problems, hope i get Big quick"
Cuz my mind drift off into things that I knew I couldn't touch
Ain't feel my momma slap my hand but I heard her say "that's to much"
But I'm reaching to grab the clutch and watching it bust that 120 line
Til I'm flying, crashing back into my senses, back to making wishes
Right before I hit the alarm

(Hook)

(Verse 3)
Lil' shorty a few under 5'2"
Nothing short of a young picasso, be painting the sky blue
Teacher told her she had talent, she was just natural at it
Whether a court or a canvas get in the paint and get loose
But they couldn't even imagine what she was imagining then
Shorties was only on imaginary friends
I was, head on the pillow, fuck a dime for a tooth
Early ages seeing niggas selling dimes to the youth
Early stages of her pages showing signs of the truth
See back in third grade, she used to paint things
That's when she would turn pain into paintings
Wouldn't lose sleep over them telling me I can't dream

(Last Verse)
Tish Nigga U already know the rest mane
I'm way way passed sane
All these hype muhfuckas in the fast lane
And they aint even passing
These bastards blasting their own music and talking bout
bitches choosin
One mad at his baby momma for saying he couldn't move in
Passenger nigga calling a girl a bitch for ignoring him
He rolls up the window, roll up one doobie for all four of em
Driver nigga start tweeting "woomp woomp real nigga shit...Benihana...woomp, woomp hoes be on this real nigga dick"
No classes, just classy hoes, pair of glasses, and Styrofoam cups
Fast lane boys doing 90 towards nothing, but they fresh though