| Shouting from beneath the surface
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| I stated committed but i wasnt perfect
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| Was it worth it?
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| Mostly indifferent but served her purpose
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| No roses
|
| Hairpin curves the roads frozen
|
| Oh dip
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| Watch him disappear
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| Beneath her nose
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| Unload then roaming Castle Hill at 4 am
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| Spent and Foggy threw up in ur lobby like i wont be back again
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| Cleaning up my act hat left by the mantle
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| Next to 90s r&b cds and Tea candles
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| Fuck it
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| Keeping Lies Straight no yaki
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| Wonder if she really put it past me
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| Heart committed wasnt hardly perfect
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| Second guessing this aint really working
|
| Moments played out
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| Sudden urges
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| Weak
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| Speak of the devil
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| Wetter than last remembered
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| Repeat offender
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| Whats it take to make me reconsider
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| Swear she aint Playing second fiddle for another winter
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| Her baby boy getting big
|
| First met him in his mothers womb
|
| That aint mine
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| She let me splash Inside
|
| First time raw
|
| No balloon
|
| I come thru tell her no perfume
|
| Consuming my bassoon
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| Blue cheese moon
|
| Blowing sour boom
|
| We got history just a chemistry thang
|
| Peeled outta Memory lane
|
| Man i know i Been changed
|
| (Woods)
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| Like it was yesterday, sitting in the waiting room finally out of things to say
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| No fear in your face replaced by something I couldn’t place then
|
| nor articulate roday
|
| Scales weighed gave way to beds made, closed eyes,
|
| holding your hand felt like a lie
|
| Clenched till you ground bone & knuckle
|
| Came home bombed, tried to live in the rubble
|
| though it would be enough that I loved you
|
| maybe I didn’t love you enough
|
| While you slept reached for the crutch
|
| no woods in your hood made do with a vanilla dutch
|
| Stalked through Hell’s Kitchen, torch cuffed, eyes peeled but
|
| strangely, didn’t give a fuck
|
| 42nd, swept in the crush, human tides under blinking lights
|
| thinking about the device, the life unchosen
|
| the unknown price paid in that moment
|
| empty words, earnestly spoken, copper tokens on debts imposing
|
| Cops hopped out the unmarked whipe, said they seen me smoking
|
| aggressive patdown but the L is down a strom drain floating
|
| radio’s crackling, fresh action
|
| One clapped me on the back «don't be out here when we circle»
|
| The blood was black-purple
|
| tiptoed inside, cupped your stomach from behind
|
| were you really asleep or was I just that blind? |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song No Roses, artist - Armand Hammer. Album song Race Music, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп