Yeah, feel my pain, paperz! Real nigga
Street approved, cut different
Real niggas' feel my pain
If it’s fuck me then fuck you, I feel the same
Ain’t nothin' change, check
You know how hard it is to get a buzz in Philly?
Especially when there ain’t no love in the city
And how it’s rappers in this world but it’s chilly
No support but every where you turn, it’s envy
You know how many nights I spent in the stu? Plenty
Tryna come up with shit, hoping niggas' feel me
And, not to the mention, all the vids I do wit (?)
I ain’t bitchin about no paper but it cost a pretty penny
But they still don’t feel me
I try to tell em, I’m cut different, they still don’t hear me
I dont see how, when every time they hear me, they get the real me
Man, I do this shit for Brickz, do this shit for (?)
And, I can give two shits if you niggas' feel me
Thank the realist in the game nigga, don’t compare me
Cuz I’m the realist in my lane, I can see it clearly
Rest in peace my nigga Bush, that shit hurt me dearly
I ever see the cop that killed, I’ma squeeze it (?)
I know what go in the dark, one day it touch the light
And, I’ve been livin' wrong more than I’ve been livin' right
My heart cold as ice, give me chills when I write
See, to you this may be music, but to me shit more like my life
Boy, this shit more like my life
Boy, this shit more like my life
Boy, this shit more like my life
I swear, this music is therapy that I write
My only escape from the bullshit that come with life
You know how many rappers I had to run through to get my name?
How hard I went to make these streets feel my pain?
I’m from an era where you had to battle to get your name
But now, you’re poppin' if somebody backin' you with change
You know how many DVDs I bombed? Shits a shame
How many bitches that I fucked and gave me brain?
That nappy head youngin' from «Touch Money», look how far I came
Back then, it was for the love, this time, it’s for the fame
Yeah, shit done changed
Can’t rock wit you, we ain’t the same
To keep it real, I’m doin' better without you niggas'
I can’t complain
From where niggas' ride hard, boy, this ain’t your lane
All my life been major pain; no Damon Wayans
True hustler, I’d never change, been in the TRAP so hard this week
I ain’t see the stu in 7 days
It ain’t bout paper, then it’s in the way
Ever bar from the start to the finish (?) brick of cane
I know what go in the dark, one day it touch the light
And, I’ve been livin' wrong more than I’ve been livin' right
My heart cold as ice, give me chills when I write
See, to you this may be music, but to me shit more like my life
Boy, this shit more like my life
Boy, this shit more like my life
Boy, this shit more like my life
I swear, this music is therapy that I write
My only escape from the bullshit that come with life
You know how many times I heard
«Pook, I can’t wait till' you make it bro»?
And then I tell them «I'm performing»
And they don’t make the show
The main ones that say they believe in you, they be fakin' tho
Not only is these rap niggas' hatin' but they takin' notes
You know how many times I sent Kev shit for the radio?
Shit, I ain’t sayin' that he got to, but he ain’t play me tho
But, I ain’t trippin cuz shit, cuz prison taught me patient bro
And if I ever get it, still the one that real niggas waiting for
Shit, I can’t wait to blow
Sometimes I get lost, I don’t know which way to go
Cuz I can make them feel my pain or I could make it snow
And, yeah I got a lil' name every where you go
But coke money pay my bills, this rap paper slow
And, I can’t get killed in the streets
My sister and my 2 nieces, they dependin' on me
Know I just did 7, can’t go back to (?)
And every time Brickz kite me, tell me «never stop»
Shit, he living through me
Yeah man, just to close this jawn up man
I wanna shout out all the real mafuckas' around the world man
In the jails, in the streets, nah mean, I wanna shout out
Everybody that’s out there still fuckin' wit me, still checking my YouTube
views, Instagram, Facebook, if you still in your mafuckin' playlist,
play some Brickz shit till' this day man
I got love for you man. Nah mean, shout out to Young Bob
Shout out Kre Forch, shout out Chic Raw, Meek Milly, nah mean, everybody that,
all the niggas' that was doin' they thing when I was out there and they still
doin' they thing now. Shout out the whole West Philly. You already know (?
) keep a special place in my heart man. Pook Paperz, Touch Money Na.
Hey Na, you know how this shit is in here baby, stay out there,
keep doin' your thing man
Keep holdin' a real nigga down. Any real nigga, any real bitch man
That was out when Touch Money was poppin' poppin' poppin', ya’ll know what the
fuck it is, like, pay some respect man. Like, my man Pook Paperz out there
holdin' shit down for us man. Pook man, real rap man, I’m livin' through you
bro. On some real shit man. Ya’ll mafuckas' better cop this «Feel My Pain»,
go on ITunes, whatever the fuck ya’ll got out there, and cop that music,
show love, pay homage man, bow the fuck down
TanyaRADA пишет:
- спасибо! От Души!!! ( Улыбаюсь...)все так!!!Liza пишет:
Любимая песня моей мамы