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[Talking in background] Yo Turn up my headphones Sometimes, I don't even know if I'm coming or going (We about to take you there) [Chorus] Please lord let me make it through a day without no pain How can I make it through the fire when there is no rain? Send me free stuff dwelling on my sins Cause you got me blowing circles in the wind [Chorus] [Verse 1: Mr Gzus] I'm high as hell loungin' on my Ralph Lauren sofa Caught up in this game trying to maintain the quota Before it's over, gun talk before the gun spark Survive this long cause of the way I keep my gun cocked It's so dark, when I delve into my memoirs, And it's so graphic; I strap myself with my Kevlar Hand on my gun metal, for all the beef that's unsettled Sold everything a thug pedalled, I'm just one rebel Thoughts are through in mind a la Kurt Cobain Letras de cancionesYo, it's slow pain, like cocaine, flowing through a cold vein I meet the odds, now I pray to the gods My niggaz in the yard get dealt some better cards Made Men's at large, get the fuck up ou to f Dodge Your whole entourage will get hit up with a barrage My choice weapon, the legacy of my legend Will still live on, until the day of Armageddon When I hit the dead end, yo, it's fire on the crucifix I'm losing it, trying to figure out who's the snitch I shed blood for my honour, on the street corner Hotter than a sauna, blazin' marijuana Duckin' shots and regroup I buck back, yo Cause fuck that, that's where niggaz be getting snuffed at Whatever's coming tell me, I'll take i to n the chin So for every sin, I'm blowing circles in the wind [Chorus x2] [Verse 2: Antonio Twice Thou] I inhale and blow it out Stress calls, in the Source no doubt I got steam to blow the top off a pressure cooker I had a dream; it seems frustration took us Do I have to grab a gat to touch my fantasy? Or will I live long enough to have a chance to see If I can blow the spot, show the world what I got You know there's a million niggaz thinking just like me Smokin' on the same weed, livin' on the same named street With the same fat beats, and all criminals for fucking with cracks and heats We magnets to the dragnet, young, black and got assets to make a smash like the crash test Now what's next, lifestyles of the trifle fraudulent I work hard, my life; it's still hard to get Interruption from a deep thought, to twist up Architect, I roll blunts perfect, apex when it's lit up I can't relax; I'm never calm No matter what happens, somebody drops the bomb; trying to do me harm And these street politics got me strapped up with a .45 stick and a habit on bricks I pat myself on the chest, to feel a vest Cause jealousy and envy among my peoples is a mess Don't playa hate, hate the game It's all the same; I'm blowing circles 'til I'm blowing flames Ain't nothing changed [Chorus x2] [Chorus continues in background] Where my thugs at? (Made Men) [x5] [Chorus x2] From Letras Mania