45-34
“Piano keys starts to play”
It’s the life, my pain, the struggles
Its what make me Who I am
Being trapped in design
Follow’d scripts experience losing grip
Hardhead’d on some cornball shyt
Can admit cause through it fam I lost
Life isn’t a gun you can jam but cant toss
Back than play’n L-snatch-cho
Disrespect’n fiens bully’n rupauls’
Young black jeans sag cops harass
Mayne I was just attempt’n to get pass
Only have flings wit hoes, relations don’t last
I’m just caught in this hole, bucket of crabs
Everybody want ya to blow, Too twisted to grasp
Try’n to pick at my mental, to grow height to bash
“Piano keys starts to play”
It’s the life, my pain, the struggles
Its what make me Who I am
Being trapped in design
Rap isn’t bout creativity or being native
Gotta spit that real kick’n the truth as plaintiff
Cause blame’n don’t look good for the defensive
rode wit honcho on the bench, wide awoke so I listen
surviving off porridge, soups, and books
fuck the fame, •••els, and the attention for looks
its bout hold’n ya name justify’n this game
conscious is pain, life the vessel, struggles we gotta change
its something that’ll make a few seem insane
couple out of place cause most die going against this rat race
so those thatz left or far behind, it’s a shut case
you can open my mind, but can't have my cake
“Piano keys starts to play”
It’s the life, my pain, the struggles
Its what make me Who I am
Being trapped in design
“C.E.O throws 45-34 in lockdown”
This wasn’t my main adjective cover plenty lessons
Isn’t the trail I chose to take, hard to escape no objections
fanatic to streets carnal minded so every subject stresses
my pain bring negativity cause misery love company
trust its not the way I want my fam to look at me
my life that I fuck up see’n through struggles by different views
shouldn’t of got that gun, but being hype thatz how brews hav ya
shyt probably wouldn’t of mug a daughter or rob sons
just me try’n to hold it down attitude I’m no bitch
giv a fuck bout a snitch or a snake even all that red tape
saw through all that fake phony shyt so most hated
couldn’t pretend who they wanted to be so a lot faded
now I’m lock wit only digits to be acknowledged and notice
though I pray I’m like fuck the government I’m Posted
wait’n to get out ready to go postal no mo’imprisonment
these numbers don’t mean shyt to me, but the life that I live
to get a piece of this sweet American pie, no lie wont jive
walk wit me, they wouldn’t never take me alive
“Piano keys starts to play”
It’s the life, my pain, the struggles
Its what make me Who I am
Being trapped in design
__________________
TeamGutter
These Text cats like remotes
Yall Gone Head And Test
They Watch Me Like I'm Tv
So They Bound To Press
03-13-2007, 04:44 PM
Linear Mode
