Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Don't Blame Me (feat. C-Murder and Mr. Serv-On), artist - Mia x.
Date of issue: 26.10.1998
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Don't Blame Me (feat. C-Murder and Mr. Serv-On) |
Don’t blame me for the pain the world has caused |
Don’t blame me for your own imperfectionate flaws |
If every individual were to accept his own blame |
I think the world would be a better change |
A better change |
Nigga don’t blame me cause my lyrics hittin your chest like gunshots |
And my thoughts seepin into your brain like cooked rocks |
It’s like a thick I have on a nigga mind is ??? |
yall |
Sort of like ??? |
of thugs |
To break off from an overrated government full of corruption and hypocrites |
That try to immoralize yourself when they untouchable by laws, that’s bullshit |
They say I’m overrated, but I’m highly educated |
Incarcerated but reinstated and I know them faders really hate it |
Rest in peace Malcom and King, TRU soldiers of the black folks |
See while yall gone, I’m a be a mouthpiece for the ghetto |
I feel like it’s my duty, I be elected through spirit |
One of the chosen few soldiers from the infamous No Limit |
Records, a cooliation of highly respected ghetto millionares and servents |
Just some independant brothers that deserve it |
Now don’t point your finger partner, just pratice what you preach |
Cause it really ain’t my fault playa, so don’t blame me |
Believe me |
If I had my wish I’d robbin every day nigga wake |
Cause if you let the world tell em my lyrics are the reason why |
Lil niggas took the pains they can’t take |
Or the troubles he left behind |
Why I gotta be the vision |
I ain’t even lookin at when your child choose music and he choose mine |
But if you was a better parent he wouldn’t look up to my kind |
And time life taught me |
The last minutes of your life is like bail, you either make it or you don’t |
You either goin love me or you won’t |
But don’t blame me when your child ain’t got enough to eat |
And nigga I appreciate if you goin buy my CD’s |
But yall ain’t got a decent pair of shoes on his feet |
The streets taught me you gotta accept your blame and don’t blame it on others |
I look at my mother and I watch her suffer |
But we beat the bad times in uptown |
And nobody gave a fuck, everybody came around |
We made it on our own |
And turned a fucked up life into a happy home |
Don’t blame me because my skin tone’s like God’s own |
The oldest skeleton was chose to be an Africans born |
I’m from a strong race of people who can never be denied |
Every tear we cry’s like rain water and so our sea dries |
Ghetto flowers shades of ebony in full bloom |
Women of color got sentenced, blessings unto our womb |
They’d rather see us doomed, placin flowers on tombstones |
But BeBe’s kids multiply while yall tryin to plum to save your own |
Label me wrong because I spit the raw real |
Yall feel all my verses, even if I curse it’s straight through em |
Screw em, I takes my blame, you hypocrites make me sick |
Tryin to sabotage my arches, thoughts stay on some scandelous shit |
Get a grip on the way you truely live |
Entertainment can’t raise your little kids |
Run your households |
You got to mold thier minds and tell them what to look out for |
Gangsta rap won’t be a cop out no more |