Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Make Something, artist - Kent M$NEYDate of issue: 25.04.2013
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Make Something |
| There came a life so bittersweet |
| Can’t waste your time looking up to niggas you’ll never meet |
| Belly simming and thoughts of your father figure |
| When your mother fill a void and your granny’s a begotten sinner |
| We on, like mass when niggas was skipping class |
| Paying bills underage, we was learning a different math |
| Autographs for your belongings, of all things |
| Heat here, steady revolving in Palm Springs |
| What’s up? |
| Excuse me, I’m just trying to get a little light |
| I went from starving ever other night |
| Life full of drama, they gone make a nigga take something |
| Take something, when I’m only trying to make something, make something |
| I’m only trying to make something, make something |
| I’m only trying to make something, make something |
| They be flossing like it ain’t nothing, ain’t nothing |
| They gone make a nigga take something, take something |
| I’m only trying to make something, make something |
| I’m only trying to make something, make something |
| They be flossing like it ain’t nothing, ain’t nothing |
| They gone make a nigga take something, take something |
| Yeah, nigga — we here now, nigga |
| This is dedicated to the niggas who said we would never make it |
| Listen, too many days I had a lot on my plate, not enough food |
| Young, trying to chop up the cake, so I cut school |
| Yeah, I was clinching the gate when the bell rung |
| Question marks in from of my name like Questlove |
| Nigga, I’m gone — I need the newest kicks, passed over like a Jewish kid |
| Stretched out — Jesus, felt like the crucifix |
| Still I get my prayer on, blacked out, my Raider on |
| Lord, I know you never will forsake me, let me play the song |
| Yeah… yeah… yeah… |
| I arrived from the Heavens to a street called 87 |
| It’s crazy weapons, the way we steppin', the daily lessons |
| Of the younger, we go from hunger games to wanting change |
| To see a bigger picture, money is the frame |
| From Basquiat to Nasty Nas we paint pictures |
| Words hit ya like ancient scriptures |
| We leave ‘em for the young ‘cause we can’t take ‘em with us |
| I coach niggas on how to get green like Doc Rivers |
| The plot shivers and shakes, I give ‘em work over breaks |
| New winner, killed the beef, because I know the stakes |
| It’s high like Wiz Khalifa, my man hold a fist of reefer |
| Put down your arm so I can reach ya, I’ll greet ya… |