Lord! I'm having rob-a-nigga thoughts, like the horseshoe Got all the tools in my box I'm a nut, missing a corkscrew Sittin' on my porch thinking this rapping ain't gon' happen Cause faggots reppin' that, like I'm the wrong nigga to pass the torch to
Momma stressing cause her rent's due Can't borrow money from none Of the homies, them niggas in a pitch, too My co-connect, he got pinched, too Andy dufresne escaping shawshank the shit I been through (lord!) Refridgerator empty, inner anger in me simply waitin' and incubating For if a hater tempt me, I'mma disintegrate him quickly Spray the 3-80 'till bullets penetrate his kidney Sometimes I just wanna fall asleep in the tub Loaded on drugs - like I was imitating whitney
Talk to God, just pray that he forgive me in sleep (rest!) Depressed, I been stressed And weighted the world on my chest Like I'm bench-pressing a planet I get dressed On a one man mission - hopped In my bucket with a bad transmission My hands itching Yeah I'm past bitching and complaining And ain't trying to land in nobody's damn prison But I gotta take a chance - man listen
My pops was a magician, like david blaine mixed with a mime He disappeared, didn't say a thing Nigga bounced out, out to [?] in kansas Now I gotta find out where this fuck nigga pants is Man of the house, throw on his trousers Nothing like a child in them pedophile browsers But still a child lost his innocence 'n a frown live where the smile did Snatch purses and rap verses - I was a wild kid
Fast forward to this gun in your face Mouth covered in tape I want what's in your safe I want you to resist So I can take all my anger out on somebody Who ain't got nothin' to do with this shit lord!
You don't know about the struggles in this bitch Late at night, stomach growling While you cuddle with your bitch And they tell me I would even go through troubles if I'm rich But I rather have something Cause having nothing is a bitch (lord!)
La la la la la You don't know about the struggles in this bitch (lord!) La la la la la You don't know about the struggles in this bitch (lord!) God bless the child that got his own, let's see I ain't got nothing I wonder will God bless me I ain't saying being rich 'll make me stress free But I'd rather see what that do while I'm on my jet skis
(Yeah right, I'm hungry e'ry night, and I never smile Got my poker face air tight) Down on my knees accidentally using profanity I can't even say a prayer right I just want a pair o' nikes I just wanna wear a white tea and keep my hair tight I just want a fair fight I just want a fair life Is that too much to ask for? Tell me is that too much to ask for?
You don't know about the struggles in this bitch Late at night, stomach growling While you cuddle with your bitch And they tell me I would even go through troubles if I'm rich But I rather have something Cause having nothing is a bitch (lord!)
Compositores: Dominick Wickliffe, Jonas Vestergaard, Andreas Bai Duelund, Rune L Rask, Emil Simonsen ECAD: Obra #10948233