Textbook Stuff
[Hook: Imogen Heap]
There, there, baby
It's just textbook stuff
It's in the ABCs of growin' up
There, there, baby
It'S just textbook stuff
It's in the ABCs of growin' up
[Verse 1: XV]
Three women raised me
Famous Footwear paid me not enough to blow up
But showed up cause I ain't fuckin' lazy
And teachers thought I was dumb or crazy, or both
With hopes of being a Nas or Jay-Z, I slumped
In my chair and my grades, my head wasn't raised
Being fly was priority to the lowest
I would stand on my desk just to see the world in a different way
The dead society of a poet—homie, I'm focused
But there's somethin that a dude can't prove
I mean, fam, I was damn near invisible at school
So I banged for a minute cause all my niggas was Crippin'
Just me and my two of my dudes, Blue Man Group
Had dreams of doing things they say that you can't do
'Cause everything ain't black and white, 'less you chew bamboo
So I was after big bills like a toucan do
All the while, my mom askin' why I'm truant at school
She said:
[Hook: Imogen Heap]
There, there, baby
It's just textbook stuff
It's in the ABCs of growin' up
There, there, baby
It'S just textbook stuff
It's in the ABCs of growin' up
[Verse 2: XV]
Ugh, so why ain't I go to college?
My mama's ultimatum, made me say that I know I got it
My niggas said V's buggin'
Stay on your computer software, debugging
But we holding hardware 'cause we thuggin'
Now they in the traphouse with some guns that they done borrowed
And all this snow, I call it Infant Sorrow
With plans to reach the end even if I had to start slow
Sold CDs in the mall, making dough like Sbarro
Then I left the hood, like, "Fuck it," don't need the cargo
They banking I don't do well, and I don't mean Fargo
But even when you leave, somehow, it still try to follow
Baby brother took a charge harder than LeBron and Rondo
Trying to keep his head up while his eyes are in the Bible
'Cause they say a mind that's idle is a devil's toy aisle
My nephew looking at me 'cause his daddy is his idol
I looked at him, told him, "Sit down, this information is vital, look"
[Hook: Imogen Heap]
There, there, baby
It's just textbook stuff
It's in the ABCs of growin' up
There, there, baby
It'S just textbook stuff
It's in the ABCs of growin' up
[Verse 3: Kendrick Lamar]
Living my life like I'm living right
In the midst of a fire pit, the gangbanging and violence
Is the sweetest song, and I roam with the heart of a violin
Don't violate my patience I'm waiting... to kill a man
As I stare at the ceiling fan, as a fan of these wicked streets
If I gotta eat, I steal like a metal piece
I'm screamin' out, "Fuck the police"
I'm dealing my cards with Jokers on em
You can disown him or stone him
I'm throwing them rocks back with the fury of bullets
You couldn't live your life for the moment
When I'm foaming at the mouth and my sharpest of teeth showing
I'm in the back of a black Buick finna black out, like February—
Ain't that's how Blacks do it, right?
I cut off my ears before I hear your advice and vice versa
I'm screaming for help as loud as I can, but that's not working
I'm working them corners like blueprints
Then caught a L on my first offense
The judge threw the book at me and said this:
[Hook: Imogen Heap]
There, there, baby
It's just textbook stuff
It's in the ABCs of growin' up
There, there, baby
It'S just textbook stuff
It's in the ABCs of growin' up