Print

I got angels running 'way, I got demons hunting me I know 'Pac was 25, I know Jesus 33 I tell Death to keep a distance, I think he obsessed with me I say "God, that's the one," I know she would die for me They want a barcode on my wrist To auction off the kids that don't fit their description of a utopia (black) Like a problem won't exist if I just don't exist If I grew up without a single pot to piss in Pardon me for venting Congress got the nerve to call itself religious Rich just getting richer, we just tryna live our life Momma mixed the vodka with the Sprite They killed my cousin with a pocket knife While my uncle on the phone He was gone for more than half my life He got out a year and then he died I was on the road Talking to my father on the phone Left the city when I was just four None of them would get along Momma begging him for winter clothes I was chilling with my nigga Spook Now they tryna take his Life don't mean shit to a nigga that ain't never had shit, yuh Letras de cancionesLight don't mean lit in the dark, fight don't mean fists, ooh Eyes don't see, eyes don't see, ice don't freeze Light don't leave, I don't mean lie to me Tell me I'll be okay, tell me happier days Tell me that she my bae, that I won't be alone Tell 'em I'll be okay, when he ask how's my day Tell 'em that we the same, tell em' that we not safe I got my grandaddy's soul, I'm at war that's on my mind I seen Walter body cold, wish I could switch it with mine I'm not worried bout no rap shit, distractions or wasted times I still go to social functions even though I'm so anti No I'm no Rihanna, the court gonna throw it like Donovan Down a bit, I just been modeling my whole career as if Pac was here Studio monitors shaking, I raise the apartments I'm bonded with profit, I made what I made, and allot it Amount of time that's in my mind the time you was watching So stop comparing me to people, no I am not them A lot of people dream until they shit or get sh-*gunshot* That's life Momma mixed the vodka with the Sprite They killed my cousin with a pocket knife While my uncle on the phone He was gone for more than half my life He got out a year and then he died I was on a road Talking to my father on the phone Left the city when I was just four None of them would get along Momma begging him for winter clothes I was chilling with my nigga Spook Now they tryna take his life From Letras Mania