A new year is coming.
We want all the money.
Telling every woman bag back.

We was lost.
We fell off track.
Let's hope we do not relapse.

How could I worry about shot clocks, when I’ve been fighting just to make it to the playoffs.
Getting fired and hired and laid off.
You’re too focused on materialistic and pretend things.
Trying to impress your friends and these women.
I say all the time let’s move different.
This won’t fix none of the things that I’ve mentioned.
The relationship’s more like tradition.

We fight and don’t talk but we're moving on.
I still stay to myself, I’ve been traded on.
I can’t rush into something I keep my patience.
But you’re giving techs, fouls and a flagrant.

We know I can hit me a buzzer to win the game.
But why would I win just to feel pain.
Trying to fix myself and my mind-frame.
Stay true to myself in my own lane.

We all know these other women all want me, but I act expensive yet they all adore me.
To tie the knot won’t complete this story.
Better tighten up, soon they can afford me.
A couple of years of dating.
We on thin ice like we’re skating.
Don’t want to break, I’m just saying.
Believe it or not, I’m not faking.
Spent my whole life for this training.

For shot clocks...

So you can keep timing me or move along.
I should be writing a better poem and songs.
Self centered, you’re right and I’m always wrong.
If anything, you’re the one taking too long.

For shot clocks...