Letra What's Stopping You - prota

What's Stopping You

From southern trapping dear mr. west how you snatched me
Pull me back to reality see yo life as a casualty writing while on my balcony
my baby sleeping on the third floor I’m downstairs rolling bags of weed
Ain’t even gotta grab the keys you know I got the drive bumping hypnotize old
line but still a big vibe you got damn right
I’m smoking blu cru bout to take Nip flight
The city on my shoulders bout to see new heights
That boy Josh on his Black Boy Fly, I’m up in Cali and he up in NY
That’s two 46 niggas, if we can do it tell me why you can’t try
You scared to fail or scared of leaving yo guys?
But now yo nigga in prison and plus he going on 5
Yo other homie on probation but he rolling that fire, and plus he roll with
that fire
Cause Niggahs murdered yo homies mama and lft her outside the daughtr found her
now my niece she ain’t right that shit fucked up
So in my better days I gotta count my luck up, still a huge fuck up to put on
red and chuck up
Catch a flight and see a game of Kyrie out in Rucker
Head back to the bay to soak up son and let my dreads grow
Ay do yo thang don’t let the feds know
I just saw a post that said I got the dope the low
Oh shit that’s just an ad in Cali, I’m high as fuck I’m new this I’m smoking on
blueberry cookies
I ain’t no fucking rookie
I got grasp on life that make it real hard to breathe but you best believe like
old sayings back in 03
Adolescence thought boy I’m P Cole need a pea coat breeze off the coast got the
flow froze boy I’m too cold
Too bi polar which me do you know?
I ain’t been the same since that shooting back at 24
I ain’t been the same since that pain had to let it go
I was off a pill in a range with a bad hoe
Tryna sniff a mil meanwhile she was sniffing Coke
I was hella low what was love I don’t even know
All I ever knew was no two people take the same road
I was in my booth writing rhymes tryna break the code
I ain’t have a clue what was coming when I broke the mold
Twenty years old with my dick swinging from the flow
Twenty years old I was with it trigger to my soul, tell me what you know nigga
I’m off this double shot of brown liquor
I’m in my zone you better take a picture
I’m by myself you better keep up with her
I get some charming when I’m by myself, I get so charming when I’m out my shell
I peeped her ring that shit straight from Zales, that shit straight from sale
So I parallel double park that motherfucker sideways
The ego bigger than Beyoncé and Kanye
You niggas weak I’m talking Sunday to Sunday
Back in Atlanta I just hopped off the runway
Link up with JID then mediate to clear my feng shui nigga got the sauce like
picante try to keep up with the pace
I’m in my bag but that’s a whole other case, ay tell that bitch she better stay
in her place, while playing Ari Lennox
You know yo music ain’t shit if ain’t no Prota in it
Don’t hear me now but you’ll see in a minute