Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Love On Display, artist - Brother Ali. Album song Champion Ep, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 31.01.2007
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Rhymesayers Entertainment
Song language: English
Love On Display |
We move all the merch, CDs and shirts |
For you, this is a game but for me this is work |
I punch in ha, when I step on the stage |
I get paid when my record is played |
Word to Printmatic |
I’m a poetry chick magnet |
With Goldie the pimp habits |
I roll with a limb that is |
Droven Omaha, flowin' for hick ass kids |
Knowin' I was zonin' at the moment I hit that shit (I love y’all) |
Kris references and no one will get that shit |
I even make the best of it and go home and slit my wrists |
Imagine what a trip it is, rappin' for little shits |
Who think that DJin' was created by Mr. Dibbs |
Remember this, those are the main ones that show us support |
So I owe them my existence and shit so |
I got to thank them, my home is broken ain’t it? |
I downloaded parents cause I heard they’re overrated |
I pushed a demo tape when the group was first created |
Younger Brother was the debut album when they made it |
E! |
Behind The Music, believe that I’ve been through it |
I either write the true shit or feel my life is useless |
You should, do this, math with me right quick dog |
I cry myself to sleep when the lights get soft |
Tour twice, in the spring and the fall |
Ten weeks each my son doesn’t see me at all |
Now out of 12 months daddy’s gone for 5 |
Spot dates in the mix, I’m absent for 6 |
So I’m a half ass daddy |
Part time singer |
Half ass crazy, got my wife feelin' half single |
In New Jersey, bitchin' with the word play |
About how my parents raised me in the worst way possible |
Doin' what I gotta do |
And tryin' to get a rap or two |
Missin' my own son’s third birthday |
I’m a self centered piece of shit |
Stomped down hypocrite |
Tryin' to get a grip on it but now I got to live with it |
This is me motherfucker, I’m a mean mugger |
Not intentionally brother, I was tryin' to see somethin' |
I never drive because I’m legally blind |
All I can do is describe what I see in my mind |
People are fine until they peep a weakness of mine |
Then they fuck me over so I need to leave them behind |
Shit’s real |
My wrist is still stiff from my last hook |
Cat learned how to scrap just by gettin' his ass whupped |
I’ll catch an elbow and that shit will just hurt |
So I swing mine the next time I get in some dirt |
And that works |
And that’s why Murs is the homie |
Because the brothers ain’t scared to dig out spurs in the moment |
My recipe for greatness, there is no depleting this |
Because the active ingredient in it is my weaknesses |
I speak with this little drawl that the Midwest created |
When they treat someone like shit for a decade |
Anthony can’t chirp, flare or backspin |
But he’ll listen to my fucked up life without laughin' |
I’m challenged and offended by sheets of blank paper |
Who act like they are too good to carry my strange flavor |
Painstakingly, suffice is to say |
I ain’t scared to put my motherfuckin' life on display |