Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song How Did We Get Here , by - Propaganda. Song from the album Selected Songs, in the genre Рэп и хип-хопRelease date: 03.03.2016
Record label: Humble Beast
Song language: English
How Did We Get Here |
| Well I feel it |
| It’s the blood of my ancestors resting in my chest, bro |
| Jah was so great |
| Yeah, cause I remember karaoke mics pointed at the speaker |
| Boom box play the tracks, CD skipped, bunch of raps |
| Open mics, night side, drive by ghetto bird |
| Hoping you can make it home |
| Better get swift with your words |
| Birthplace, earthquake |
| Hometown; |
| it goes down |
| Learn to bust choppers before your ABC, tragedy |
| Survivor rivals the odds of tryin' to fight gravity |
| A compliment when MC say come battle me, stay cool |
| Now a dad, college grad, quit my job, hit the road |
| Tryin' to get my marriage happy |
| Ask about me at the bottom of the 710, holding down the sea port |
| Beach city, coast guard, Queen Mary, Snoop Lion |
| Trust me, I’m a native, the Hollywood sign be lyin' beneath it |
| Grave of a thousand young souls, take a stroll on a shore dream of |
| Californication |
| And I still can’t explain how any of us made it |
| It’s grace |
| And I got a feeling I can’t describe |
| I see this place when I close my eyes |
| Wake me up if we ever arrive |
| And tell me how did we |
| How did we get here? |
| Tell me how did we |
| How did we get here? |
| Tell me how did we |
| How did we get here? |
| Tell me how did we |
| How did we get here? |
| Tell me |
| My hand prints left permanent stamps in |
| The steering wheel with the pressure of anvils |
| Fresh out the gate, the campus that gave us a canvas; |
| blank |
| Unemployment rates, we scrambling for pay |
| Never stand still in a rat race |
| Speeding out of LA, couldn’t be late that day |
| I’ll be right back, I’m headed to Vegas cause Taylor got graduation, too |
| That round trip switched quick to a one-way, I’m surprised it’s you |
| I hit the local circuit in churches scribblin' verses |
| Rehearsing them with no music so earth in due time can use them |
| For spoken word or whatever service |
| A movement; |
| the music in Egypt was persecuted |
| Long go, faith is bullet proof |
| When you look around and pray that they won’t shoot you to prove it |
| How did we get here, in a dream school? |
| Now when I swim here God planned it, I’m one of the fish here like Boom |
| How, how, how, how (x6) |
| And I learned you ain’t in love with this |
| Time to fire your publicist, I inspire above the mess |
| Your desire requires this lost angels city, don’t pity us, fully aware |
| That’s why I don’t flinch at a bully scare |