Pay Me In Time

What it is I give a fuck what a pundit is I give a fuck 'bout a talkin' head I David Byrne this bitch to the ground They do not know who they fucking with Can't blame 'em, don't even know themselves I've been a fighter, fight since like eight Probably realized it when I was twelve I probably outdid they bucket list When Fab was still wearin' them bucket hats Back when I was gettin' bucket stats Just tryna prove that I was a man Just tryna prove that I wasn't bitch Took me 'til my twenty-somethings This also concerned me what toughness is now and I was on some fuckery Got my priorities straight on my company Love is the luxury But I'll be damned if the leather ain't buttery (Woo) I'll be dancin' on them when they front on me (Woo) Shakin' hands, but I know they made fun of me (Woo) Funny, but what can I do when the faith's low? (Oh) Feel the clock runnin' out on my race, woah Said I just wanna take my time But is it my time to hold? Said I just wanna make my mind But is it still mine to know? Woah, woah, woah, woah, woah Yo, yo If I had a minute every time they done and did it Be infinity up on my clock Prophet or a profit? What good if I cannot stop it? Got this path I'm talkin' What if there's no way to walk? I don't know, I don't know Mind full of places that I won't go Chest full of hatred that I don't show I gotta take that on my soul Do I have time, have time to grow? I don't know So either pay me in time, in time, in time, in time or hit the road Coming to you live from the end of the world For all you people out there, real, digital, and otherwise I've been asked to relay a request This is for Craft City kid, you know, all sad and whatnot? Though at the genesis of a journey, you could say Here's a hit with him in mind