Glass Ceiling Songtext
von Travis Thompson

Yah
Live from occupied Duwamish territory
Where geo, saba laid the bricks for Trav to tell

The story of a youngin from the bottom
Grown up skatin,′ sippin' forties with Biyani
On the nano with a Microsoft recording, yeah

Swan dive down my mama up in Swedish
Hit the hill the first day
To find some whiskey and a free bitch
That was back in ′96

And the fourth that we defeated
While he laid up on the court
I was toasting to this season
So ANL never new to me, fell into the foolery

Your favorite rapper in the back
Well move let the students see
I can tell it's all an act, I can smell a movie scene
How y'all be from legendary cities


And still do the lease, could it be us?
I mean it wouldn′t be, dog
If it′s a ceiling, I'm shooting up
And they all night long, so stick your tongue out

(Shots are falling now) I come out
(All upon you) You run out
(Don′t be styling my come up when I come out)
They gon' see, play your part or take a seat

I know I′ma be a legend, why the fuck I'd wait to be
Take the kids up out the town
But you can′t take it out the team, Ty my dealer
Mama's crib in sweats and slippers, hit the weed

It don't get realer than me, the cop done cut his
Raise hell, it′s a wave if you don′t know it
You could drown or parasail, this shit sweet like the revenge
And all this hunger pairs well, just a youngin
With some homies who was really there to tell

(Who was really there to...) Taco Bell on Broadway
Used to hit different (Hit different)
Orange soda with the monarch we mix it (Mix it)
Fast forward, true story, I lived it


Take the torch and run when Mix gives it (Ooh-ooh)
Now, I remember when the scholars sold out the
Chop Suey, I hit the u-ey, the line was wrapped
Around the block and if it wasn't for Geo and Saba

Letting us open at the paramount for the scholars
And a miner′s shady ass paying us a couple 100 dollars?
I might not be in this house lookin' right over the water
And I don′t know if I believe in karma but

I got daughters and ain't eating at five point ever
Fucking I′m lit, I watched Wordsayer, I studied Tribal
I'm top five of all time with the live show
I walk up on the hands of people like a tight rope

And sold out Key Arena five times with my eyes closed
Who's counting? Who′s doubting? Who′s mounting?
Bringing motherfucking team, whole league gettin rowdy
With a six team that the city can be proud of

Now the deal's been inked, me, the owner of the Sounders′
Ooh, and I'm going to bring back the kingdom
2030 something mayor when I get grown
Until then I ain′t giving up this throne
'Cause the homie from the Ambaum already got his on

And the region still waiting to blow, even though
We been seeing explosions for like ten years or mo′
Now the outskirts thriving but the city lost, it's old
And the OG's dying in the time we need them most

We were beefing over coast
Now we beefing over post, is you writing?
Or you channeling or ghostin′?
In your quotes, guess it don′t really matter

I'm just rooting for my team, cooking for my people
′Til the day we finally see you liberated, cold ceilings
Territory I'ma be with the people who acknowledge
Me for me, not the people who tryna network

Or get some shit for free, in my inbox sayin′
What's good we gotta link (Tap in with me one time)
I miss this shit, I don′t miss the attention

Still a blue sky like just in case you had to question
Beat rock, 'til I get reverted to the essence
Northwest 'til I get the portal for my pigment

Who me be? M-I-X-A-L-O-T, man
Glass ceiling that′s the drugs we doin′
Ain't no limits here baby, here it come
Do you remember me, the black seed?

With hood knees, the hood greed forced me to
Chase feeds and get freed, I concede
My pop hits was paper makers, gotta get my mama
Out these projects, ′cause I'm a shaker

The nurse at the King County jail, I was sucking in game
And she was bringing in mail, the city is in me
Ya′ll can't bend me, I was full of good game
Spiked out of envy, here I sit, a few platinum hits

Am you cool with this shit? Nah, hear this
They am real street boys for life, if it wasn′t for them
I'd be humming a slave hymn, for him
Blessed to be called by Mack and T-X-T

The city's in good hands, it′s easy to sleep
I′m good with the business, and since the door closed
That fat motherfucker got balls, eat 'em