Noname and Saba - Open Apology

Open apology
For little black girl, don't you follow me
I'm never getting on
I look like empty yesterday or Anna Mae
My cake ain't getting money
Dummie down a violent metaphor
Who be the magic in my magic hour
Baby, liquor gone
And lick the wound
Baby masochist in afternoon
Catalog the vacancy
And pray my fame is coming soon
'Cause maybe I'm not talented enough for angel wings
I done done some things
I just hope the Lord forgive me
I'm a maple tree, got my niggas with me
For a minute
Ode to Chicago, fuck the Chiraq
Ode to Chicago, and the Harold's chicken
Uncle Remus' duplex with the Cadillac
Utopian aristocrats for cats getting money
But still smoke Reggie, and love me sunny
Like carnations in a magazine, magazine pretty
Diamond cascade off the collarbone, watch it waterfall
Lemonade the happiness for niggas that ain't getting on it
Pray, pray, pray
For the better of tomorrow

Humble beginnings, now they all look jaded
That shit doesn't exist, you almost famous
They'd give up everything to be acknowledged
Ain't left home in a week, I'm busy hiding
They keep telling me that I'm next in line but
I'm still at home and I live with my momma
If rap don't work, it's not too late for college
They think I got it better than I got it
What I got is

(Many thoughts of my star
Running from the love I've found)
We do it for the people, and my momma
And the city on my shoulder, and the babies on the come up
(When your love is your job
Is it as hard as I've found?)
I've found my city, I've found my love
I've found my city, I've found my love

(Many thoughts of my star
Running from the love I've found)
We do it for the people, and my momma
And the city on my shoulder, and the babies on the come up
(When your love is your job
Is it as hard as I've found?)
I've found my city, I've found my love
I've found my city, I've found my love

Written by:
FATIMAH WARNER

Publisher:
Lyrics © Downtown Music Publishing

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