Sweaty palms and a deadline at the door. The District is the sound of betting everything on one shot — Pidgin verses stacked over a beat that never lets the pressure drop.
No more games, no more waiting in the line
No more searching for a signal or a sign
The clock is running out, I can see the finish line
The world is yours, but tonight the world is mine.
Palms sweaty. Knees weak, arms heavy. Vomit. Sweater. Mom's spaghetti.
Palms sweaty. Knees weak, arms heavy. Vomit. Sweater. Mom's spaghetti.
The air too thick, humidity dey rise inside the room
I dey stare into the screen, see shadows in the gloom
My heart dey beat louder like a heavy sonic boom
I write every line, make I chase away the doom.
Deadline for my door, knocking hard, e want the rent
I dey build am on my own, but I never get one cent
All my energy don spend, see the way the rules get bent
I be my own business, still I'm pitching up a tent.
I dey nervous, but for surface I look calm and ready
To launch the final project, though the vision no too steady
I dey try to keep am focused, keep the logic in the medley
Before the pressure break me and the silence turn deadly.
Snap back to the mission, make I turn the ignition
I dey fight with all the deadlines, wrestle with the friction
This no be only dream, na a violent addiction
I dey break out from the box, escape jurisdiction.
No more games, no more waiting in the line
No more searching for a signal or a sign
The clock is running out, I can see the finish line
The world is yours, but tonight the world is mine.
Palms sweaty. Knees weak, arms heavy. Vomit. Sweater. Mom's spaghetti.
Palms sweaty. Knees weak, arms heavy. Vomit. Sweater. Mom's spaghetti.
You better lose your fear in the music tonight
You gotta hold on tight, never give up the fight
You only get one shot, do not miss your chance to blow
This opportunity comes once in a life, you know
We going up, we going high, we touching the sky
We leaving everything we knew in the days gone by
So let the bass drum kick, let the rhythm take control
And lose yourself inside the beat, body and soul.
Yo, the code dey escape through the gap wey dey gaping
The District na ours for the taking, king in the making
As I dey move toward a whole new order
Nine-to-five too boring, founder life dey near the border.
E only grow harder, e only grow hotter
Once I deploy, game over, everybody dey upon me
I-95, dem know me as the road-runner
Empty roads, God only knows, I don move far from comfort.
No boss for my ear, no clock upon the wall
Na the weight of the vision, every rise and every fall
But hold your nose, because here comes the cold water
I jump into the deep end, going farther and farther.
I dey swim for the deep end, sharks around the reef
I refactor through the week, make I find small relief
The pressure too immense, like a mountain for my chest
I dey ship every feature, put am straight into the test.
So best believe, I dey pay my dues
I don walk many miles in battered, bruised and dusty shoes
No easy road before me, no shortcut I can choose
Even when the night come, I get nothing left to lose.
No more games, no more waiting in the line
No more searching for a signal or a sign
The clock is running out, I can see the finish line
The world is yours, but tonight the world is mine.
Palms sweaty. Knees weak, arms heavy. Vomit. Sweater. Mom's spaghetti.
Palms sweaty. Knees weak, arms heavy. Vomit. Sweater. Mom's spaghetti.
You better lose your fear in the music tonight
You gotta hold on tight, never give up the fight
You only get one shot, do not miss your chance to blow
This opportunity comes once in a life, you know
We going up, we going high, we touching the sky
We leaving everything we knew in the days gone by
So let the bass drum kick, let the rhythm take control
And lose yourself inside the beat, body and soul.
You can do anything you set your mind to, man.
Don't let it go. Don't let it fade.
This is the bed that we made.
Now we lie in it. We fly in it.
You better lose your fear in the music tonight
You gotta hold on tight, never give up the fight
You only get one shot, do not miss your chance to blow
This opportunity comes once in a life, you know
We going up, we going high, we touching the sky
We leaving everything we knew in the days gone by
So let the bass drum kick, let the rhythm take control
And lose yourself inside the beat, body and soul.
Palms sweaty. Knees weak, arms heavy. Vomit. Sweater. Mom's spaghetti.
Palms sweaty. Knees weak, arms heavy. Vomit. Sweater. Mom's spaghetti.