Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Can I Rise, artist - Mathematics. Album song The Problem, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 27.06.2005
Song language: English
Can I Rise |
Sometimes I zone out, starin' at the wall with the chrome out |
I’m broke, but I’m black, so I can’t take a loan out |
Judges sendin' me in, cases hardly gettin' thrown out |
Lost in the system, fam, like I miss 'em |
Had a smart mouth, so the gods probably twist 'em |
On the floor leaking, til the meds come and stitch 'em |
Little brother got that, cops pistol whipped 'em |
Heard he in the gay house, faggot nigga pimpin' him |
Thought he was a thug, look what the world did to him |
Everything’s changing, everybody banging |
Every where you go in this world, niggas hating |
Used to kick ass, now he take it in the anus |
Told his moms, phone hit the floor when she fainted |
She a Jehovah witness, she blamin' it on Satan |
Both sons locked up, spend her nights prayin' |
Welfare washed up, living in the basement |
Daughter on the strip, now, hoein' for nathin' |
Moms got arthritis, hands keep shaking |
Couple months passed, now she buried in the pavement |
Fifteen alcoholic, whole life wasted |
Can I rise? |
And get to the laugh, through the cries |
While I’m alive, the projects, the hood through my eyes |
No lies, people relyin' or just enough cash |
To survive, I’mma strive, to the top, before I die |
Can I rise? |
And get to the laugh, through the cries |
While I’m alive, the projects, the hood through my eyes |
No lies, people relyin' or just enough cash |
To survive, I’mma strive, to the top, before I die |
Little man gettin' tired of people making fun of him |
Probably spaz out, if you put the gun in front of him |
O.G. |
hustling nigga, gave him a pack |
Told him to, hold his head then he gave him a gat |
Shorty coming through in whips now, he started to stack |
Started hanging out with pimps now, started to mack |
Flossin', his lady got pregnant, had an abortion |
Cops raided his crib, took half of his fortune |
The other half that he had, was the O.G.'s portion |
He’s left with nothing, thirty thou', down the drain |
Now he mad at the gate, that he fouled the game |
He got knocked, lost his dough, right after, he lost his hoes |
Did a year, then they offered parole |
Five years, he took that, couldn’t wait to get home |
But that O.G. |
hustler, was waiting with chrome |
He owed him, twenty five, only gave him fifteen |
He thought, being that he did time, the nigga wouldn’t see him |
But he did, came home and he was waiting in his crib |
Came in his door, he had his lady, suckin' his dick |
Down to the floor, he spazzed out, thought she was cheating |
Til he seen her face was beaten, he had no gun |
But he did start swinging, the O.G. |
whistle |
Three niggas came in with pistols, poppin' |
And left, his last words, were 'baby, I miss you' |
Can I rise? |
And get to the laugh, through the cries |
While I’m alive, the projects, the hood through my eyes |
No lies, people relyin' or just enough cash |
To survive, I’mma strive, to the top, before I die |
Can I rise? |
And get to the laugh, through the cries |
While I’m alive, the projects, the hood through my eyes |
No lies, people relyin' or just enough cash |
To survive, I’mma strive, to the top, before I die |
Son, started rappin at 12, by 15, he was sick |
His whole hood thought he had potential, to be the next B.I.G |
So many rap niggas, offered to put him under the table |
But he signed with no lawyer, to an underground label |
Everything was good at first, so he was feeling the vibe |
I mean, he knew he was gonna struggle, but he was willing to ride |
They had him on some pretty shit, and it was killing his pride |
But he held it in, kept it all hidden inside |
See, he was gutter since birth, he didn’t know about flossin' |
Coppin' him new Benz, he didn’t know it was gon' cost him |
He ain’t know if he ain’t blowin', he gon' wind up owin' |
And that brand new car, they gonna wind up towin' |
It’s more than music, everything is based on business |
He’s a hard headed little nigga, never would listen |
Signed off his publishing, and half of his spinach |
Spaz out on 'em, and his whole career was finished |
Til he signed to another label, and repaired his image |
Got back on that hard shit, they ain’t feelin' him now |
Hearin' boos, last year, he was killing the crowd |
Now he can’t even go gold, he gettin' tired of the game |
Niggas makin' fun of his name, he gettin' tired of the shame |
Took it out on his dame, now he locked in the bang, it’s crazy |
It’s how we live, yeah. |
Can I rise? |
And get to the laugh, through the cries |
While I’m alive, the projects, the hood through my eyes |
No lies, people relyin' or just enough cash |
To survive, I’mma strive, to the top, before I die |
Can I rise? |
And get to the laugh, through the cries |
While I’m alive, the projects, the hood through my eyes |
No lies, people relyin' or just enough cash |
To survive, I’mma strive, to the top, before I die |
Can I Rise? |
Can I Rise? |