Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Coulda Been , by - Lupe Fiasco. Release date: 11.05.2017
Song language: English
Coulda Been |
| And they say, and they say |
| And they say, and they say, they say, they say |
| They say … y’know a lot of stuff, y’know what I mean? |
| Don’t know what I coulda been |
| If I wasn’t doin' this thing right here |
| Shit, yo |
| If I wasn’t rappin', I’d probably be wrastlin' |
| Hand-to-hand grapplin' on the corner of Madison |
| Or real-estatin', tryin' to sell you a mansion |
| Or rollerbladin', doin' 360 flatspins |
| Or I’d probably be flippin' a burger |
| Attemptin' a murder, or paralyzed sippin' on Gerber |
| I could be workin' at Jewels, chain-snatchin', jerkin' your jewels |
| Homeless, workin' for food |
| I might be cleanin' your pool, teachin' your school, preachin' to fools |
| Leechin', smokin' weed to be cool |
| At DMVs, holdin' lines up |
| Or wind up in line-ups, time’s up |
| Full of holes in a hole in a fine tux |
| Out on parole, out of control, holdin' your dime up |
| I could be lazy, sittin' on your couch |
| Or I could be crazy, cussin' pigeons out |
| I could be hustlin' bags, strugglin' bad |
| If I wasn’t up in the lab, shit, I just might be |
| Cuttin' your grass, walkin' your dog |
| Pumpin' your gas, or nothin' at all |
| I could be hustlin' bags, strugglin' bad |
| If I wasn’t up in the lab, shit, I just might be |
| Cuttin' your grass, walkin' your dog |
| Pumpin' your gas, or nothin' at all |
| I could be thankin' the Academy |
| A friend of the family, your man deliverin' bail |
| Or I could be the man that delivers your mail |
| Or I could be takin' the stand, trickin' on L |
| This could be my third life, on my third strike |
| On my third wife, or garbage on my first mic |
| I could’ve got off easy, that nigga deserved life |
| Or the Orkin man, searchin' for termites |
| I could be stickin' up convenience stores |
| Or twistin' up what you fiendin' for |
| Gettin' buck with the meanest whores that been givin' up |
| On top of a buildin', leanin' forward, with no wings to soar with |
| They could’ve kidnapped my daughters |
| Been extorted for a couple of Porsches |
| I might be drunk from the Mo', stumblin' slow |
| Someone to know, runnin' the show, or shovelin' snow, shit |
| I could be hustlin' bags, strugglin' bad |
| If I wasn’t up in the lab, shit, I just might be |
| Cuttin' your grass, walkin' your dog |
| Pumpin' your gas, or nothin' at all |
| I could be hustlin' bags, strugglin' bad |
| If I wasn’t up in the lab, shit, I just might be |
| Cuttin' your grass, walkin' your dog |
| Pumpin' your gas, or nothin' at all |
| I could be startin', guardin', or plantin' a garden, or security guardin' |
| Or I could be starvin' and eatin' out your garbage |
| And found stardom starrin' in sitcoms with Martin |
| I could’ve been marchin' with Martin |
| Handcuffed, North Face over the face with no comment |
| I might not even be dark-skinned |
| I might not even be conscious, comatose from a overdose |
| A R&B singer blowin' the notes |
| A tailor sewin' a coat, a sailor rowin' a boat |
| I could’ve boxed a little, fought for the title |
| Lost and lost my vitals on the way to the hospital |
| I could’ve lost my business |
| Won the lotto and lost my ticket |
| I could be the last one to cross the finish, shit |
| I could be you, I could be him |
| You could be me, we all got a job to do |
| Shit, I just might be |
| Cuttin' your grass, walkin' your dog |
| Pumpin' your gas, or nothin' at all |
| I could be hustlin' bags, strugglin' bad |
| If I wasn’t up in the lab, shit, I just might be |
| Cuttin' your grass, walkin' your dog |
| Pumpin' your gas, or nothin' at all |
| I could be hustlin' bags, strugglin' bad |
| If I wasn’t up in the lab, shit, I just might be |
| Cuttin' your grass, walkin' your dog |
| Pumpin' your gas, or nothin' at all |