Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Open Arms, artist - Grip. Album song Snubnose, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 10.10.2019
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Human Re Sources, Stray Society
Song language: English
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 |