Travis Scott — the ends

Two AM hollerin’ outside
Lookin’ but I cannot find
Don’t you fall asleep this time
I been all alone on a long way drive
Only you can stand my mind
Only you can fix inside
So if I make it out tonight
Let’s make it a badass time

Okay, I got it, copy
20/20, but I can’t see nobody
One eye open, Illuminati
This might be the verse that make ’em drop me
Ain’t makin’ friends, we just makin’ hobbies
Know they want my girl, that was just a hobby
Call her 50, tell ’em load up the lobby
Elevate her up, no need to find me
Yeah yeah
X-ray vision, see through you niggas
Newspaper stand, we press the issue
We ain’t sendin’ shots, we launchin’ missiles
Right up at your hood up north
Checkin’ third ward, I’m goin’ mental
Fuckin’ out my room, I been rackin’ up incidentals
Cookin’ on a tune, I been cheffin’ up instrumentals
Nothin’ else to do when you’re ridin’ in the
When you ridin’ in the, in the back of the back seat
Driver run the miles up like I’m runnin’ a track meet
Gotta watch my back now, ’cause these niggas at me
All black in a Benz when I pull up on you

They don’t want to see me in the end
In the end
Let me catch you creepin’, here past ten, in the ends
From a tribe of check-a-hoe like Indian
Oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah

To them I’m a big dick, a cheque and some laughter (hey!)
I guess it’s all survival but please be careful, uh
I gave up on the Bible long time ago
I hope it ain’t give up on me, I don’t know
I came up in the town, they were murderin’ kids
And dumped them in the creek up from where I live
Bodies, bodies, bodies sprinkled around
We runnin’ through the sprinkler looking around
Killer would show up with boxes of pizza
And said he had a label recruitin’ people
Put that on my grandma and everythin’
My homie said he told ’em his name was Wayne
It could’ve been me, it could’ve been you too
But what a memory in me, it may need interludes
What’s gon’ patch up my inner tube
So I could pop a wheelie and walk it too

Oh yeah, the flame with the nappy fro now
In the ends, I’ma kick your door down
Oh yeah, we keep wildin’ out the Mo’ now
(Oh, yeah) keep that 300 Z-Ro when I pull up on ya