Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Nothin' at All, artist - Common Market. Album song Tobacco Road, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 08.09.2008
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: SCIONtific
Song language: English
Nothin' at All |
I know you want me to be that type of dude |
And I want to be who you’d like me to |
But we both know, I can’t do nothin' at all |
You say there’s no use in walkin' out |
And I say there’s just what I’m talkin' ‘bout |
‘Cause we both know I can’t do nothin' at all |
We do our thing, son |
Some will spend a lifetime trying to find a reason |
We do our thing, son |
War takes prisoners and I ain’t trynna be one |
We do our thing |
No apologies, no complaints and no refunds |
It’s mad work to be done |
They may say I’m just a dreamer |
Well at least I’m thinkin' while I’m sleepin' |
‘Cause the last thing I can do is nothin' at all |
They may say we’ll never win against ‘em |
I say fuck you and your cynicism |
As for me, I can’t do nothin' at all |
My past plagued by a plethora of regrets |
In my agonist age I’m a questioner of precepts |
If we left the staff in place to blaze the path then, uh |
The shackles stay and bind the sequitur to each step |
The chain, boss, be an irritant to contact |
I’m trained not to be a militant of combat |
Upon that, frame the shot — pop and aim |
Sayin' the game’s soft be the will of him who want that |
«YO» said to be the idiom of paltry |
Yeah, the broke fed upon the brilliance of bawdry |
Lauded be, see folks spread — ahead go now |
The quote read by the billions, so pardon me |
The tag «sham» is but a negligent critique |
While some had a chance others fester in the disease |
The kid needs to pack the jam, man I get at y’all |
Goddamn he’s pressin' it, best believe |
You can call me anything you’d like |
And I will call you when it’s time to strike |
‘Cause we both know I can’t do nothin' at all |
We may not be in agreement now |
But we have got to try and work it out |
‘Cause we both know we can’t do nothin' at all |
We do our thing, son |
Long as you do yours, land here become fecund |
We do our thing, son |
Through the act we attract two, hope to reach one |
We do our thing |
Some’ll paint a piece, some’ll spray with a machine gun |
It’s mad work to be done |