Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song I Ain't Gave Up On You Yet, artist - Propaganda. Album song Crimson Cord, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 21.01.2016
Record label: Humble Beast
Song language: English
I Ain't Gave Up On You Yet |
Yeah, I met this girl when I was eight years old |
What I loved most: she had so much soul |
When the 10 and 101 meet, the sight was so breathtaking |
Murals the size of buildings, LA River |
When you black among eses, gangbanging ain’t an option |
But that Krylon aroma made a brother feel alive |
And it feel like the Creator made boom-bap just for me only |
Radio made the night not so lonely |
That’s why I wanna fight when I hear them thug phonies and gangstas |
Acting like crack was our savior |
And at times I can’t stand you, but stand I must |
Love is patient and long-suffering, it’s all in your head |
And at times hip-hop makes me very upset |
But I ain’t gave up on it yet |
And at times America makes me very upset |
But I ain’t gave up on it yet |
And low-key, my own people make me very upset |
But still ain’t gave up on them yet |
And at times, my own city make me very upset |
But still ain’t gave up on it yet |
That family tree’s a groundhog day of ignorance |
Juke joints, speakeasys, been on that ratchetness |
Granddad ran the numbers, got mama out the hood |
DC was so crazy in the 30's, let me tell ya |
Uncle Timmy and Alan and Hubbard, they all suffer from |
Them typical pitfalls, front like ya’ll ain’t feeling me |
Ya’ll know a line of Appalacia Mountain bootleggers |
This transcends race; |
ya’ll got moonshine coursing through your veins |
Don’t cha? |
Them is crimes of survival |
Tax evasion, white collar, pre-Great Depression |
They say New York trying to escape the same thing |
It’s life but be patient, boy, it’s all in your head |
Little brother, I feel you, Vato drive slow |
Vans with no plates, he’s second generation |
His tio from Sina Loa smuggling people biz |
Collotes in training, bald heads and tattoos |
Slanging social security numbers, I’m from the 626 |
I know it well, down that 1−10 |
Bye abuelita, green card grandpa still works hard |
Only one with good sense, dime a donde vas? |
Vaya con Dios mijos tres puntos, calmate homie |
Corrale, corrale! |
I see it in his ojos |
You feel trapped, don’t you? |
You feel like «Why me?» |
But it’s all in your head |