Lyrics Open Arms - Grip, Grandmaster Vic

Open Arms - Grip, Grandmaster Vic
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Open Arms , by -Grip
Song from the album: Snubnose
In the genre:Рэп и хип-хоп
Release date:10.10.2019
Song language:English
Record label:Human Re Sources, Stray Society
Age restrictions: 18+

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Open Arms
What up, cuzzo?
It’s been a minute since we touched base
I hope this verse doesn’t find you in a rough place, give me some updates
The family ain’t been the same since granny passed
So busy tryna handle tasks, life passed, quick as a camera flash
Like I ain’t seen you in a year and some change and I’d be lying if I said I
wasn’t hearing some things
I often track back to better days, backpacks and letter grades
And Uncle Timmy’s hatchback was matte black and heather gray
You had the fade, the part and the rat tail
Way before I rapped well, enough to speak on the plight of the blackmail
Who would’ve thought that we would play a part in these packed jails?
From crack sells, when we was just paintin' pictures with pastels
Action figures and Gargoyle episodes, laying right there on grandmama floor,
Lord bless her soul
Manifested goals, now the necklace gold
But I’d trade it all in a second, bro, for you to come back home
Know you’re never on your own, no one wants to be alone
Open arms when you come home again
Lost in streets, we used to roam
It hit a little different when you get grown
Everybody waiting on you to get home again
We walked a slow place but time’s skatin' on rollerblades
These are the thoughts that travel through my mind on my lowest days
Where I’m from, niggas toting K’s and throwaways
Sell dope or rock, the only jobs that overpay
Unless you’re an athlete or flow over trap beats
Can’t get a real job 'cause niggas got rap sheets
Slept in my backseat, I’d probably be better off if I had went and got a
college degree
Wish the knowledge was free but see, the problem with me, I get a couple of
dollars and go on a lottery spree
Obviously, we ain’t have no one to show us the ropes
But rappers sold us the game, so we sold us some dope
Don’t want to get off our ass, we’d rather hold a remote
And watch them flex all they cash while we stay totally broke
And now, now, don’t get me wrong, really to each their own
But I just miss the days when music used to hit home
Know you’re never on your own, no one wants to be alone
Open arms when you come home again
Lost in streets, we used to roam
It hit a little different when you get grown
Everybody waiting on you to get home again
Aye, y’all niggas wanna see where my uncle keep his gun?
Your uncle don’t have no gun
Yo, what is that?
Yo, is that a.38?
That bitch clean
I bet it ain’t loaded though

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