V1 (20) Everything happens for a reason/ And my reason to be's to see shit happen for a reason - One event to the next/ It's like I'm stuck at the box office with every second my clock tosses Into my face, smacked with a case of fate wasted and lost causes/ I've been mocked and accosted, to the point that I got nauseous/ Though my flow's been plugged enough to stopped faucets/ I've thought often about tossing this awesome gift to the wind/ And start crossing over to sin with this intention to blend that I get from within I've protected my skin with a thin layer of pride and showmanship/ But both my coats are ripped and I can't seem to decide on clothes that fit, Supposing this rap shit actually pays off, I'm wondering if it'll all be worth it/ Cause this is what everyone in my life's been hurt with/ This curse, this evil urge I feel for verses… Is one of my life's real perversions/ I seal my curtains when I write, I feel disturbance from the light/ I deal with dirt and yet I want to heal the earth and peel the surface to reveal it's perfect. And words I wield with purpose, and yet nobody follows the plot/ They rather hear me rock off of the top/ There's pitfalls in my socks, so I walk with caution/ Somebody halt the auction! Cause my soul's on sale, and I thought I lost it.
V2 (24) And who the hell am I supposed to be?/ A holy priest holding a rosary? Some type of bold stoic Moses of poetry/ Should I be holding heat to pose for the streets A total phoney? If I said my name was 'Tony' would you know it's me?/ Supposedly, T-O-N-E flow with ease over these bolder beats/ But the flow's too cheap to pay for groceries/ And in the throws of grief I choke and breath/ Loaded with my parents hopes and dreams, yet I don't know if we both believe I scope the scene, and I'm watching these bills build up I'm nice with a day-job, these niggas write all day and still suck/ And yet they fill clubs, sell a trillion and feel sluts/ I kill dubs, but I don't have the mills to pay for real pub/ My chilled love melts on occasion/ But brainwashed niggas only feelin' my track if Clue or Flex will play it/ Who you expect to say this shit if I don't?/ What? Cause I don't wanna be extorted by a cat who lets cash determine his playlists/ I'm searching for ways in, but entrances are sparse when you're hard to market/ Fuck art, cause thugs aren't the smartest targets/ And I'm not abstract enough, so it seems backpackers are acting up/ And I thought it was half the battle, just to have the love/ And pack a truckload of skills, politics are ill and yo, it's real/ It seems I'm cruising, and they're still using these crooked stones for wheels/ And when you know the deal, it doesn't evoke the most appeal/ Like stolen Kosher Meals, lemme propose a toast to heal.
V3 (32) I've sacrificed so many facets of life, just to achieve this/ From Love & definitive reason, to trust in agreements, My family suffered in grievance when we discussed I was leaving/ Seeming substituted for tunnel vision and it probably crushed all their feelings/ There's something appeasing in the corruption of Demons/ Feeding me vehemently lustful delusions of bucks from succeeding/ But times up, months it's exceeded/ Peeling the scabs off of cuts that are bleeding, knowing I ain't had it as tough as Jesus This shit doesn't compete or even touches what he did/ But, will I be signed by 33? Cause my teens were fucking depleted Blessed with a gift, equipped to assist in the destruction of heathens But, please, would god really want me snuffing emcees, then? I must be conceited, right? Well, I'm balanced out by the lack of self-esteem I've felt since I've learned how to read & write/ Overcompensation spelled relief when the rhyme schemes are tight/ Then I feel the weight of a cheapened life when 5,000 people die/ (SOB! SOB!) Feel bad for the rap artist/ But pour your soul into something for responses that's half-hearted/ Terminate relationships on the basis of past hardships/ And then you'll see why every review's like another line on my scarred wrist. This light-hearted voice becomes jailed by the darkness/ It's impossible to trap my lips, when I have to spit/ I try to swim away, but I keep getting dragged back in this/ Come to find my arms automatically swimming backwards, Cause I'm a masochist.
Chorus: If I gotta fight for the rest of my life Then I'm gon' turn the other cheek (yeah) Cause I hate the way you hurt me But I can't get enough of your love.Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
