Print

Time goes by puffin on a lie, hopin that it gets me high gotta nigga goin crazy, crazy Niggas wanted to kill me, got locked up and never found me So my goal is to catch a charge in that same county Picture me gettin bumped for a silly hand off The bullpens fucked up, just ask Willy Randolph See, I could pop a few nickel-plated glocks too It's easier to kill niggas than it is not too I let the pot brew, then the plot grew Labels try to label you, don't fit and they'll drop you Finally made a move on somethin I been sore Sometimes you gotta lose the fight if you tryin to win the war I'm focused on tomorrow, Done seein my friends in the rearview thinkin we really closer than we are Fuck the record label, no relation or correlation All my admiration turned into aggravation They say- how you sit so long when you spew classics I tell niggaz I can't understand it, that's Blue Magic the rap game as-is, either you on some snap shit or plain old stuck in a different decade like Da Brat is I hear niggaz joints and take it personal, why? Now everybody wanna rap about they personal lives Before that it was non-existant Me, I'm an addict with an addiction for anything that seems to cause friction Maybe I'm in a relationship with bad karma SongtexteWhen I'm past the somber, maybe I attract drama Undoubtedly my life is on some VH1 shit Just addin some Salt N Pepa to reality While other artists is obsessin with more toys Like Lex coupes, Beamers and Benz's, they Lost Boyz I kept brushin off my shoulder til the chip was gone Left the Benz at the dealer til the kit was on I don't feel niggaz songs So while y'all at the awards, I'm loadin up on ratchets that's the TIP I'm on Flow is on acid, swear I would have the game mastered If I wasn't too busy carryin' baggage Callin God a bastard, Calvin looked way different in person than they had him lookin in his casket Lookin in his casket like he had no face I was at a loss for words like Fiascogate So I figured I'd say a prayer for him, got on my knees quick And realized I don't ever pray until I need shit My soul achin, tryin to stay low maintenance Stuck in hell waitin on blessings with no patience I done made the ave hot, been hit, stabbed, shot Waitin on my jackpot, always been a have-not always been a underdog, little guy still try Cuz I think I'm a cash cow, they treat me like I'm milked dry Jugglin nickels and dimes, I'm walkin the fine line Sometimes you gotta just breathe, maybe give time time Give me a sign, kinda shocked he won't See I want another baby, but my pocket's don't Normally that wouldn't bother me (Thanks to scrilla for these lyrics) Aus Songtexte Mania