| My faith is buried somewhere underneath the town
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| (Until it’s paid for)
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| Strawberry season, my sweetheart is coming 'round
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| (I hear it rain and pour)
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| How did you find me here? |
| It must be perfect timing
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| (Forever grateful)
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| If I didn’t love you then I damn sure love you now
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| (Fruit of your labor)
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| Say ain’t shit change but the bank statements
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| Spent the summer in the rave with the beach babies
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| Threw your chula in the buggie
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| With the top down up the PCH
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| I’m heading north, I hope it doesn’t rain
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| Went from playing community ball to balling with the majors
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| (Oh, what you major?)
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| Yeah nigga I ran bases, pitch flame
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| I call plays, remove labels
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| And fuck fame, that killed all my favorite entertainers
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| (Nothing short of amazing, ooh yeah)
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| But I’m short on my patience
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| See, I don’t play that shit, I don’t ever forget
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| And don’t forget that dot, nigga you paid for it
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| I spent years being called out my name
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| Living under my greatness
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| But what don’t kill me is motivation
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| My faith is buried somewhere underneath the town
|
| (Until it’s paid for)
|
| Strawberry season, my sweetheart is coming 'round
|
| (I hear it rain and pour)
|
| How did you find me here? |
| It must be perfect timing
|
| (Forever grateful)
|
| If I didn’t love you then I damn sure love you now
|
| (Fruit of your labor)
|
| Six years old I tried my first pair of Jordans on
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| (Momma can you carry me?)
|
| It was late in the fall I caught a glimpse of my first love, my God
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| (Momma can you carry me?)
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| Knees hit the floor, screams to the Lord
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| Why they had to take my ma?
|
| (Momma can you carry me?)
|
| To the early morn
|
| (Momma can you carry me?)
|
| To the early morning
|
| (Momma can you carry me?)
|
| Hey, hey, hey, gather 'round hustlers
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| That is if you’re still living
|
| And get on down before the judge give the sentence
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| A few more rounds before the feds come and get you
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| Is you gonna smile when your date gets issued
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| You know them feds taking pictures
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| Your mom’s in prison, your father need a new kidney
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| You family’s splitting, rivalries between siblings
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| If cash ain’t king it’s damn sure the incentive
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| And good riddance
|
| Q: Is the element of danger an important factor for the members of your peer
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| group?
|
| A: Yes, you might say that. |
| Why don’t you give it a try and find out for
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| yourself?
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| 'Bout the year Drizzy and Cole dropped
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| Before K. Dot had it locked
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| I was sleeping on the floor, newborn baby boy
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| Tryna get my money pot so wifey wouldn’t get deported
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| Cursing the heavens, falling out of orbit
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| Tryna roll this seven, tryna up my portion
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| What about your goals? |
| What about your leverage?
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| So they don’t force you into some hole
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| What’s the meaning of my fortune meeting?
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| When I crack the cookie all it said was «keep dreaming»
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| When I look at my tree, I see leaves missing
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| Generations of harsh living and addiction
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| I came to visit during the seven year stint
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| But they wouldn’t let me in because my license suspended
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| Now I’m scraping the pennies just to kiss you on your cheek
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| It’s gonna be a couple weeks before I get it
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| I know you miss me
|
| Six years old I tried my first pair of Jordans on
|
| (Momma can you carry me?)
|
| It was late in the fall I caught a glimpse of my first love, my God
|
| (Momma can you carry me?)
|
| Knees hit the floor, screams to the Lord
|
| Why they had to take my ma?
|
| (Momma can you carry me?)
|
| To the early morn
|
| (Momma can you carry me?)
|
| To the early morning
|
| (Momma can you carry me?)
|
| (Momma can you carry me?)
|
| (Momma can you carry me?)
|
| (Momma can you carry me?)
|
| (Momma can you carry me?)
|
| Yeah, oh, oh, oh
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| And one of these is my rise
|
| One of these is my downfall
|
| And I’m the one to make it right
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| I wanna make it right
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| And one of these is my rise
|
| One of these is my downfall
|
| And I’m the one to make it right
|
| I wanna make it right
|
| I wanna make it right
|
| I wanna make it right
|
| (Momma can you carry me?)
|
| To the early morning
|
| (Momma can you carry me?)
|
| To the early morning
|
| (Momma can you carry me?)
|
| Oh lord
|
| (Momma can you carry me?)
|
| (Momma can you carry me?)
|
| (Momma can you carry me?)
|
| (Momma can you carry me?)
|
| (Momma can you carry me?)
|
| Psychologist: I see here they call you a masochist
|
| Leroy the Masochist: I like pain
|
| Psychologist: Can you be specific? |
| What kind of pain do you like?
|
| Leroy the Masochist: Any kind of pain |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song The Season/Carry Me , by - Anderson .Paak. Song from the album Malibu, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп