Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Body of Work, artist - Billy Woods. Album song History Will Absolve Me, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 09.04.2012
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Backwoodz Studioz
Song language: English
Body of Work |
Breaking rocks out here on a chain gang |
Breaking rocks, serving my time |
Breaking rocks out here on a chain gang |
Working, but I still got so |
Far to go |
Aging at the edge of an ageless void |
Too old to be young and too young to be old |
Or young enough to be paranoid |
I’m just flowing with the waves to stay afloat |
Paddling on a board while praying for a boat |
And some rope but I’ll settle for a mic cord |
Center of the seesaw, mamma told me I was very wealthy |
Depending on your definition of rich and the way you see poor |
I’m a Father and still a Sun |
On the middle of the road bopping like I got no place to go |
And some place to come |
Positive warns me of the deceptions of negative |
Negative is trying to convince me to believe positive is a sedative |
I pondered this and learned that they both are relative to life on Earth |
And sometimes feels like a repetitive burn |
Ashes to ashes held captive in the urn |
The ink embroidered, black exploited, crackers bought it |
Crack was boiling, niggas balling, clientele calling |
My Excel fishtail like a dolphin, instead of talking |
Money’s corporate, progress forward, bunnies is gorgeous |
Picture me selling 20's on some '94 shit |
Cutting dummies on porcelain, all my jewelry is frosted |
Pigs is on corners more often, I’m feeling exhausted |
I pray my sins don’t fall upon my offspring |
Grown-man pants, wallets and ID’s |
Health insurance policies, Wallabees and collard greens |
Eating right, these the finer things in life |
I see your ring in the light, everything that bling ain’t ice |
Niggas think that they nice, scat-rapping in tights |
That math isn’t right, this is rapper’s delight |
Now I’m through packaging white, rap with the passion of Christ |
Don’t get the facts half-right, yeah |
Breaking rocks out here on a chain gang |
Breaking rocks, serving my time |
Breaking rocks out here on a chain gang |
Working, but I still got so |
Terribly far to go |
Work my land, slash and burn |
Elephant hands, every callus earned |
With hoe and machete, wet earth turn |
Deep in the dirt, king of the worm |
Hyenas circle, cackle, blood curdle |
Night dark as pitch |
I’m up when the sky’s purple |
Tapping ashes off clips |
Left the shebeen with her and said, «do your dance quick» |
Now c’mon baby, tell me what’s the word |
Green thumb, no metal fingers but I’m still living off special herbs |
Callaloo and cassava, big ganja |
Aiming at Impalas |
They came at dusk, wearing balaclavas |
«You die today for the sins of your fathers» |
Is it really stealing when you robbing from robbers? |
Is it actually fake when you already posing as impostors? |
Shoot the Boer, Kill the Farmer |
Crack that Cape lobster |
Boiling in Durban with poison, red dirt soiling |
Black bodies toiling, mambas coiling |
Overnight, that sweet milk spoiling |