| A loser I could never be, the bottom I will never see
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| You walk, I bite, you run, I fight, bitch you know my pedigree
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| I cruise 'round with my chick, no Tec on this I put on car shows
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| Well sometimes niggas flex, I keep a stretcher in my car door
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| I work too hard to get caught up in the he say / she say bullshit
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| Chill, niggas talk lame tryna slander my name cause I fucked some chick they
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| cool with
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| She smile in your face, but this shit’s so great, meanin' she love my music
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| Top 5 dead or alive no doubt in her mind, she choose Krit
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| I parle with my partners reminisce on all the broke days
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| Was fiending for a bottle, scraping dollars, praying, hope pays
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| Now it’s bourgeois models, baby, swallow up on this rose
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| The last one you expected to be king, Keyser Söze
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| K-R-I-T workin' wheel, swangin' til my tires peel
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| Candy coated raindrops on my whip, and bitch it’s so for real
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| M-I crooked letter, ho, who you know do it better folk
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| Put it down for the south, the best
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| The only thing I will settle for
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| I talked about the plan before I lived it yo
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| Dreaming about this life that everybody thought I’d never know
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| I told my mama, my daddy, ain’t want to lose hope
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| So I bottled up the spirit and I let go
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| Me and Raaks spent the summer making dreams off the kitchen floor
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| Folded up mattress for a seat, tryna mix the flow
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| 16th and Willington, the Temple, that’s what we represent
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| Whoever thought that we would meet the fuckin President?
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| And this is only half of what God meant
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| He gave me vision and a voice to tell the world
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| This living is not an option and dying is only a wish
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| Baiting out my heart for the world to go fish
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| Cause we living on the land where the richest man is the shit
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| Only the wisest ones are struggling to make sense
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| So I’m breaking every dollar for my soul to change this
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| The greatest rapper would be living if ya resurrected this
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| Cause we gon work, work
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| Cause we gon work, work
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| Cause we gon work, work
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| Cause we gon work, work
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| Cause we gon work, work
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| Cause we gon work, work
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| Cause we gon work, work
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| (Keepin' that black soul alive)
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| 24 years old
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| Sold everything just for angels to tell me give em more
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| Feel like I’m from another planet somewhere that NASA know
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| I rap about everything that you went to class for
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| College graduation high stakes you keep a nigga low
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| Too many unfinished miseries for me to support
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| 3 months after 87 Dreams I was out the door
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| New York, the city where we go big
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| I left my old contacts and my Blackberry at the crib
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| Any moment I’mma make it I don’t owe a nigga shit
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| I told Raak we gon do it and touch the fucking world
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| In any way we never knew it, the only way to prove it
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| No money off this music til the future bring us to it
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| So keep your head high, watching God get us through it
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| Settin' goals to tell a story that God ain’t finish paging
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| Proofreadin' his glory of amazement, amazing! |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Black Soul , by - Gilbere Forte. Song from the album Some Dreams Never Sleep - EP, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп