Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song This Life Ain't Mine, artist - Kero One. Album song Early Believers - Instrumentals, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 27.07.2009
Record label: Plug Label
Song language: English
This Life Ain't Mine |
Once upon a time there was a kid named Michael |
He’d write about his life, but with so many typos |
Like when he wrote live, it should have said love |
And when he wrote hit, he really meant hug |
But he couldn’t dig a hole that’s already been dug |
Like you couldn’t smoke a bowl, and not call it a drug |
His story so imperfect but that’s what made it beautiful |
At times like a circus but that’s what made it suitable |
At a school, where kids used words like «dudacle» |
Awesome, and radical with care-free attitudes |
But as life went on, he put trust in songs |
Like when he heard BAD, he put gloves on his palms |
When Biv sang Poison, he new jack swung |
And when he heard BDP, yo his brain went num |
That’s when he got struck by that hiphop bug |
And those that had it, were the only ones that new what’s up |
The beginning of a story he’d write in bed |
Which developed into tears and an ending that read. |
Check the rhyme |
And check the rhyme one time |
Now check the rhythm |
It’s the life of mine |
Check the rhyme. |
And check the rhyme one time. |
I feel delivered. |
When this life ain’t mine |
As the story unfolded, the plot did thicken |
When michael played with dirt that soap couldn’t rid him |
Hanging with a crowd, that clouded his decisions. |
They doubted he was Christian by the way that he was living |
But not a misfit, to most your average Joe blow |
Minus a bit of lying or a run in with Po-Po |
And time to time put his mind in slow-mo |
Puffin marijuana till motivation was no-show |
Then took his mental photos and wrote em in a notepad |
Utilizing metaphors and rhyming his vocab |
Unsigned, hella broke, and still at his folks pad |
He crawled back to church home turf since dads gonads |
Mike knew life meant more than getting by |
Living for fame, money, girls or getting high |
He heard good deeds could never get him to heaven |
But only through grace and the son that God sent in |
And that’s when, he felt shivers set in |
Palms sweating, off his feet it swept him |
A concept so deep he couldn’t sleep |
He fell to his knees, as tears hit the concrete. |
And it wasn’t concrete where mike was headed next |
But in faith he stepped as he developed this text. |
Now this concept not complex |
But in context a contest |
A constant conflict with conscience to conquest |
The accomplice promoting Mikes destruction |
Peddling greed, self righteousness and corruption |
But Mike couldn’t win or even be that good kid |
He needed help, to find out how he could live |
He wrestled pride, until a few left hooks hit |
And accepted Christ, and everything he could give |
But Michael didn’t care as people smirked and stared |
Some gave him props but inside Michael always cheered |
He knew his choice was right |
And at times thought twice |
But he believed the word cause the word it brought light |
And he got it, he’d always be a man of sin |
But as long as Christ atoned, Mike was free within |
So he grabbed a pen, without hesitation |
And called his friends bout plans, that he’d be breaking |
And wrote this story, he kept in his head |
Entitled, «this life ain’t mine» and it read |