Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Time Keeps Passin', artist - Bizzy Bone.
Date of issue: 22.09.2015
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Time Keeps Passin' |
As time keep passin' us by in my community |
Wathcin' the children die |
Bitch made police, and the brutality |
Prozac and Ritalin, that ain’t what we need |
And wonder why our children keep smokin' weed |
(Bizzy) |
Take a look into the gun, look at what we’ve become |
Daddy don’t love me, only come around the first of the month |
Me and mommy still in the slump |
Why don’t he love us? |
I can’t even blame him |
Cause ever since I came |
We been stuck in the same ghetto |
Now i’m carryin' heavy metal when times is tough |
I don’t know about ya neighborhood, but baby, mines is rough |
Abandand buildings police searchin' all the children |
Ain’t no peace in the streets, at least not where i’m livin' |
Kneeling to God cause Satan never gave us a chance |
Evil never had no rythm, man, the Devils can’t dance |
Got three pairs of pants |
But I keep em all creased |
Whether chicken or ham, we gon' use the same grease |
Each second is a struggle, beg, borrow or hustle |
Yeah, scufflin' money just try to stay out of trouble |
Hell, rebel of rap music, put it on my mama! |
And if it’s gonna be gunplay, rocket launchers, grenades, and AKs! |
(Chorus — repeat 2X) |
As time keep passin' us by in my community |
Wathcin' the children die |
Bitchmade police, and the brutality |
Prozac and Ritalin, that ain’t what we need |
And wonder why our children keep smokin' weed |
(Bizzy) |
Why is the broad on my back like that? |
Don’t ask me, i’m for passion, i’m smashin' on niggas, come blast me! |
All my people tellin' me I should sing more |
Yes! |
Roll up a dub, smoke bud in the club |
Free Flesh! |
Creepin' on a come up, i’m from Cleveland, and Columbus, Ohio |
Don’t hate myself for science, and the ?? |
Yet all these niggas gangbang |
Somebody should tell em the truth |
I’ll sell em somethin' that’ll get they heart to pumpin' |
And help the youth! |
Hangin' in the graveyard, everybody’s playin' hard |
Satan’s on a mission to get us |
I hope that nobody with us, and given us slave ways |
Ruthless got us on fifty dollars a day |
One hundred and ninety thousand I guess platinum don’t pay |
Can I please get some mo' money? |
Somebody could buy my way cause shit the rent’s due |
Glad I got ghetto credit |
Don’t let the industry pimp you, pimp you, pimp you |
(Chorus — repeat 2X) |
As time keep passin' us by in my community |
Wathcin' the children die |
Bitch made police, and the brutality |
Prozac and Ritalin, that ain’t what we need |
And wonder why our children keep smokin' weed |
(Bizzy) |
Babies born with AIDS |
And we pray for them boys they hoarding the vaccine |
Black helicopter rain on em, I’m gainin' on em |
Maintain the main thang on em, shame on em |
But another victim died of vain for em, slain |
Two hundred and fifty crashed in the plane |
And the only thing that survived was the black box |
They frame the black cops |
Slang crack rock |
Wannabe Hot Boyz, so he gon' make the block hot, block hot |
They wanna see me sasquash |
Pull out my Glock, cocked, and pop pop! |
Go to jail don’t nobody send you mail |
Hell, i’m ridin' til these wheels fall off |
Or they can take it to the chop shop |
Shut up, i’m shinnin' on you bustas! |
What?! |
Ready to hustle get your struggle on, no! |
When you wanna double up, you keep fuckin' up! |
Your mind’s gone, time’s gone, everybody’s runnin' amuck |
They say that lesbians is sick |
But they just do wanna fuck |
As time keep passin' us by in my community |
Wathcin' the children die |
Bitch made police, and the brutality |
Prozac and Ritalin, that ain’t what we need |
And wonder why our children keep smokin' weed |