Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song The Cool, artist - Lupe Fiasco. Date of issue: 26.06.2006
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
The Cool |
| Turn me up uh-huh. |
| yeah. |
| He came back |
| In the same suit that he was buried in Similar to the one his grand father was married in Yes… he was still fresh to death |
| bling, two ear-rings, a chain laying on his chest |
| He still had it cuz they couldn’t find it And the bullets from his enemies sat like two inches behind it smelled the Hennesy from when his niggas got reminded |
| and poured out liquor in his memory, he didn’t mind it, But… |
| He couldn’t sip it fast enough |
| So the liquor was just filling the casket up floating down by his feet was the letter from his sister |
| Second Grade hand-writing simply read «I miss ya» |
| Suit jacket pocket held his baby daughter’s picture |
| Right next to it one of his man’s stuck a swisher |
| He had a notion as he laid there soaking |
| Saw that the latch was broken, he kicked his casket open |
| and he… |
| This life goes passing you by It might go fast if you lie |
| You go and you live then you die… |
| O-oh-oh-ohh |
| If life goes passing you by Don’t cry |
| If you breaking the rules |
| Making your moves |
| Paying your dues… |
| Chasing the cool |
| Not at all nervous as he dug to the surface |
| Tarnished gold chain is what he loosened up the earth with |
| He used his mouth as a shovel to try and hollow it and when he couldn’t dirt spit… swollowed it Working like a. |
| hmm. |
| reverse archaeologist |
| Except. |
| his buried treasure was sunshine |
| So when some shined through a hole that he had drove |
| it reflected off the gold and almost made son blind |
| He grabbed on to some grass, he climbed |
| Pulled himself up out of his own grave and looked at the time |
| On the watch that had stopped six months after the shots |
| That had got him in the box wringing Henny out his socks |
| Figured it was hours because he wasn’t older |
| Used some flowers to brush the dirt up off his shoulders — so. |
| With a right hand that was all bones and no reason to stay |
| Decided to walk home |
| so he. |
| He begged for some change to get him on a train |
| «Damn that nigga stank», is what they complained |
| Tried to light the blunt but it burst into flames |
| Caught the reflection in the window of what he became |
| A long look… Wasn’t shook, wasn’t ashamed |
| Matter fact only thing on his brain was brains. |
| yeah |
| And getting back in his lane, doing his thang |
| First he had to find something to slang |
| Next stop was his block |
| It had the same cops |
| Walked right past the same spot where he was shot |
| Shocked that some lil’niggas tried to sell him rocks |
| It just felt weird being on the opposite |
| They figured that he wasn’t from there |
| so they pulled out and robbed him |
| with the same gun they shot him with |
| Put it to his head and said «You scared ain’t ya?» |
| He said: «Hustler for death. |
| No heaven for a gangsta.» |