Boldy James – “Photographic Memories” (ft. Earl Sweatshirt & Roc Marciano) [Audio, Lyrics]

Boldy James unveils The Alchemist-produced “Photographic Memories” with Earl Sweatshirt & Roc Marciano. Get the song and read the lyrics.

Boldy James Photographic Memories

The Alchemist, though he has a long history in the hip-hop world, has quickly become one of the most sought after producters in the game over the past few years. This comes after successful collaboration albums with the likes of the Griselda crew as well as Freddie Gibbs. His latest venture comes in the form of the new Boldy James LP Bo Jackson, a dark and eerie collection of somber tracks. “Photographic Memories,” which includes an Earl Sweatshirt feature and a Roc Marciano appearance, establishes itself immediately as a favorite on the album.

The Alchemist takes the cake so quickly on “Photographic Memories” that it seems unfair- the beat is just too good! Though the production is relatively simple, it’s elegant and features a beautiful vocal sample that drives the track. That being said, Boldy James definitely impresses with his verse. He goes in and out of cold flows as he discusses the violence in his earlier years and the “photographic memories” that haunt him.

Boldy James – Photographic Memories (ft. Earl Sweatshirt & Roc Marciano) (prod. The Alchemist)

Lyrics

[Intro: Boldy James]
Concrete
If I see or hear-
Yeah, where we at?
If I see you first-
Let’s get it, what else?

[Verse 1: Boldy James]
King of the oven mitt, know we run this bitch
A glutton for punishment, keep a submachine gun with a hundred clip
Volatile, don’t want no problemo with a problem child
Ain’t cop that shit for months, can’t come around, niggas not allowed
Cashin’ in, always gritted it out, never had a Benz
Askin’ God, “If this was my last resort, how is that a sin?” (There is no sin)
‘Cause if a nigga would’ve went with his first mind
Premeditated, out of all these killers, we the worst kind
Born convicted, brave heart, same armored defenses
Wraith parked in the trenches, same park on them benches
With ARs and extended, sat at the table with spics
He changed the label on my shit, that’s trademark infringement
Never forget a face, photographic memory
First time I met JAY was at Novo with Black and Emory
Run my hood, so this shit proceed my reputation
You already know what’s understood, don’t need no explanation
Where we at with it?

[Interlude: Earl Sweatshirt]
I never forget a face
You can picture it (Uh)

[Verse 2: Earl Sweatshirt]
Niggas winnin’ Grammys now, five star livin’
On the 5 South, jammin’ out, Heisman magic
Stickin’ out an arm and they standin’ down, cram it in
Stamp and send the package out, Jackson style
Something wicked inbound, fast
Wind whippin’ up disasters in the distant clouds
Hit the basement, the moon full at its roundest
Wolves howlin’, cleared up a couple counts
New Challenger growl, blues from the interstate
Sorrowfulness and rule, feudal debates
The brook blew the game, never knew it was a place
Pourin’ grapes on the dates, etched on the headstones over the grave
In any case, if I seem distant and reserved, then give me space
Heavy pinch of herb send me on my way
Head of the herd, making sure everyone got a plate
Left here disturbed with the look on my face
Bet, my spirit spur when I try to wake
I got on with no delay, gotta play from lessons learned
Got burned when my welcome got overstayed
I hold a old and faithful, I know the aim
And I know it say somethin’ ’bout know your neighbor

[Interlude: Roc Marciano]
What happened to that old saying? (Yeah, boy)

[Verse 3: Roc Marciano]
Broke generational curses with my cursive (Yup)
I understand the game and I know all of the inner workings (I do)
The pain run deep, you only see what it is on the surface
My bitch in there squeaky-clean, but the work was sittin’ in her cervix (Boofed it)
For all the dirt, we might need detergent for cleanin’ purpose
Bloody money in the machine circlin’, the precursor
You might’ve even heard my sneakers chirpin’ like Peewee Kirkland
Gotta watch where you keep them birds ’cause them people lurkin’ (Watch)
Feet first, I jump in the deepest current, I’m keepin’ it current
Let off a hundred clip reoccurrin’ and let ’em clean up the urine (Brr)
Whip the steering wheel of the Urus, you malnourished (Stop)
All this chicken, niggas came down with salmonella (Woo)
Screw the compressor on the TEC, it ain’t make a sound like a Tesla
This shit was loud as a whisper (Shh), the stick spin you round like a Twister
Your whip was messed up, plug you out like a cigarette butt right out the Fisker
Marci