WRITTENS

Writtens feat. Jurny Big (Tunnel Rats)

Words by Ahmad Ali Lewis, Albert Olguin
Music by Orlando Diaz Corvalan

VERSE 1 (AHMAD)
You know it’s funny when I think
How I don’t get no credit but I’m money in the bank
I’m like a girl at the prom trying to be a saint
Cause rappers think they fuckin with me but they ain’t
Emceein’s easy to me
Stanford alum nigga I don’t need the degree
From Los Angeles slums some eager to eat
That’s why vans full of guns come squeezing the heat
Destined how I’m living life
Saints at the church insisting how I’m living’s trife
Swear they love me like the preacher at the jail
Cool if you do what he say do if you don’t then go to hell
And my sister say my dad had a stroke
Do you miss him? Is you sad? I say no
He crying like good you dun blew up
Inside I’m like ughhh where was you at while I grew up?
Dude you’re a lame
Where were you at when Hoovers wanted me to bang with a blue rag?
My brother like little mane can’t do that
All he do is spit and he got writtens in his school bag

CHORUS
All he do is spit and he got writtens in his school bag
All he do is spit and he got writtens
All he do is spit and he got writtens in his school bag
All he do is spit and he got writtens
He got writtens he got writtens in his school bag
All he do is spit and he got writtens
He got writtens he got writtens in his school bag
All he do is spit and he got writtens

VERSE 2 (JURNY BIG)
All I do is give an imbecile a sealed fate and
Spill a pen illa than these killas can fake when
Y'all was learnin how to earn a nickel with a burner
I was hittin circles steady askin when my turn up
Funny how it come around cuz now I got a name but
Children may not know me so I hip them to the game
I’m hailin from that West Covina town around the Oak
Did a little hangin with them bangers hollerin loc
Smoked a little just to say I did it like y’all
Really didn’t hit it cause it limited my ballin
When I wasn't with my cousin rhymin and recordin
I was takin grounders tryin to be like Joey Morgan
Quickenin my hands in case this rhymin didn't pan out
Sicker than your man that's the reason that he ran out
Now my son sayin he gon be a rapper now
I tell him that's reason I ain't wear no cap and gown
Cuz when I was a youngin all I worried bout was spittin
Hurry around the spot to see who been caught slippin
Winnin cuz you don't get no ribbons when you do bad
All he do is spit and he got writtens in his school bag
All he do is spit and he got writtens in his school bag
All he do is spit and he got writtens in his school bag
All he do is spit and he got writtens in his school bag
All he do is spit and he got writtens

REPEAT CHORUS