| Glory fades and glory days ain’t always what they seem
|
| Give all I got and make my salaat and dream my broken dreams
|
| I crawl inside, ball up and hide, tuck my pain away
|
| And hope to God I fall into a sleep where I can stay
|
| We all got bills to settle, we all got a price to pay
|
| And if I make it through the night I can fight another day
|
| They say it’s better to burn out than it is to fade away
|
| I just hope to God I can fall into a sleep where I can stay
|
| (Slaine)
|
| It was a couple of years ago that I started becoming numb
|
| No one could understand where all my words were coming from
|
| Having visions of a nine-to-five, a wife, a blunt, a son
|
| Of a life of hustle getting by with some of the running gun
|
| Is it best to be a crumb? |
| My ex says he’s a bum
|
| Lashing out in violence whenever my destiny it hung
|
| In the balance, rum, I’m drinking gallons, some think that my flows
|
| Are more poetic than the poems of Edgar Allen Poe
|
| But I know that I’m at a challenge though
|
| I can hold an old Calico to my dome and let my talents go
|
| Shit, I spent my whole life around the violence so
|
| I planted seeds of hate oh I let my habits grow
|
| I slept with the homeless, I copped with the fiends
|
| Lost the love inside my heart, I even forgot what it means
|
| Seen the ripest nights turn into the rottenest schemes
|
| But through it all I have never forgotten my dreams
|
| When the gutters fill with blood that’s spilled from friends that pass away
|
| And memories of eulogies while standing by their graves
|
| Just trying to survive we wind up living lives like slaves
|
| I hope to God I can fall into a sleep where I can stay
|
| We all got beef to settle, we all got demons to slay
|
| And if I pray all through the night I can fight another day
|
| They say it’s better to burn out than it is to fade away
|
| I just hope to God I can fall into a sleep where I can stay
|
| (Ill Bill)
|
| Rest in peace to my homie Sob
|
| I stand before an altar of open sepultures and coffins
|
| I heard Javier got killed, it didn’t seem real
|
| With an army of goons drinking straight vodka to deal
|
| We live and die by the gun, wear our hearts on our sleeves
|
| Even though our compassion’s destined to die on the streets
|
| What’s left over a cold hollow murder machine
|
| With an appetite for malevolence, perversion, and greed
|
| When one of us dies we don’t really learn anything
|
| Outside the funeral doing bumps, burning trees
|
| Plotting revenge, crying over fallen angels
|
| Sometimes your friends die the most awkward strangers
|
| I can’t lie, sometimes this life makes me a stranger to myself
|
| But I’m pulling myself together, it’s bigger than just me
|
| As I spit this bear witness to truth
|
| My unborn seed listens while I spit in the booth
|
| Glory fades and glory days ain’t always what they seem
|
| Give all I got and make my salaat and dream my broken dream
|
| I crawl inside, ball up and hide, tuck my pain away
|
| And hope to God I fall into a sleep where I can stay
|
| We all got bills to settle, we all got a price to pay
|
| And if I make it through the night I can fight another day
|
| They say it’s better to burn out than it is to fade away
|
| I just hope to God I can fall into a sleep where I can stay |