Really been fighting depression
Really got blood on my knuckles
Really held on to the baggage, that’s just that wrong kind of muscle
Really was, really was throwing these tantrums
I grew up knowing how to rumble
But then I found you in the darkness
And I won’t put nothing above you, yo
Really been fighting depression
Really got blood on my knuckles
Really held on to the baggage, that’s just that wrong kind of muscle
Really was, really was throwing these tantrums
Grew up knowing how to rumble
But then I found you in the darkness
And I won’t put nothing above you, baggage
We need some trophies, hit 21, we need some trophies
I smoke by my lonely, this one of one
I don’t find home in your homies, see the hoe in your homies
I ain’t beefin' with blacks and latinos, we all gotta get it
We all tryna raise up the ceiling
We opened for Grandmaster Flash
That’s a 30-year difference, the dues are tremendous
I met you when 50 cents felt like a thousand dollars
Win a Nobel sippin' Mamajuana
Don’t tune to the Oscars, no time to give life to an ounce of drama
Momma, we need some trophies, hit 24
Post traumatic stress disorder, I go from war to war
Fight for the dream they white towel for 9-to-5's
We was breathin' but not alive
Since 10/06 I had a greater purpose
Might take to Hov to Sajoma for prayer circles
Put my Unc' with no English in Range Rovers
So the strife ain’t in vein, I been dying to change till this guy in a grave
I’ll be data searching
Put some God in the cadence
Yo I put my squad on a stage make you pay for murder
This the truth that make haters and labels nervous
This the grind make my peers and parents nervous
I ain’t shy no more bitch, this apparent working
Hit the Chi for this beat and still keep my soul clean in the East and the West
and the Dirty Dirty
Looked away while I struggled, that made me stronger
Knew Rad in the past, this the latest version, yo
I’m gon' get, got it
Get it get it for all my lil brothers with vision, yo
Really been fighting depression
Really got blood on my knuckles
Really held on to the baggage, that’s just that wrong kind of muscle
Really was, really was throwing these tantrums
I grew up knowing how to rumble
But then I found you in the darkness
And I won’t put nothing above you, yo
Bloody, bloody hands
I want beef, I want honey ham
When I’m at the Deli, bet I treat it like it’s Money Gram
I can teach you how to do the Tango or the Running Man
Come and get me but you better pray to God it doesn’t jam
Let’s paint it red, let’s paint it red
Wash it away, wash it away
Now that I’ve found you, I know I don’t care if I know if you’ll stay
Really got blood on my knuckles
I got a lot
I treat your moms like my moms and your name like my name and your rep like my
rep
I just went to a pawn-shop to trade in the fear and got paid with respect
Behind the back compliments, front to my face, you just made me a threat
If you cry to get credit for all you invested you’ll stay up in debt
NYNYNYNY representer
The flow like the year had an extra winter
If I dissed you my G I just meant to bless ya, yea
I use the music like anti-depressant
I don’t pop pills I sip truth with no chaser
Love you in person, you mad I ain’t textin'
I make some extra to share with my neighbors
All day, used to brush the J’s with the Colgate
Really treat the mission like a soulmate
I don’t treat the future like the old days
Cops would run up on me in my hallway, that’s all day
They smoking K2 all on Broadway
But I’m gon' get it, got it
Get it get it for my little brothers with the vision
They still golden
We need some shine
These waters frozen, frozen in time
I really, I really, I really, I really
I really talk to my demons
I really did what I promised
I really feel like a Phoenix
I really turn all the pain into solace
I took a walk on a beautiful beach
I saw ahead of me nothing but options
That was for once in my moment of peace
I felt the weight of the world on my conscience, baggage
TanyaRADA пишет:
- спасибо! От Души!!! ( Улыбаюсь...)все так!!!Liza пишет:
Любимая песня моей мамы