| Yo, you can feel it in the air, it’s hell we there
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| I swear it’s no better moment
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| Minutes of a atonment, patron went crazy at the bar
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| Just my niggas and I so far, splitting cups and rhyming
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| I’m in, a much better place cause of rhyming, the timing
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| This was so far from being perfect
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| When you work hard and the end is so worth it
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| I want my spoils now, in the middle getting roses when I’m gone
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| Does nothing for the nigga then the world carries on
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| Life is a chessboard baby you a pawn
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| And drag us through the mud like a body in the pond
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| Quick to sell our soul, so we desperately pawn
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| Under mark and value, the bitch is here for I know
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| And the champagne cold, turn the music up
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| By any means you don’t give a fuck, I know
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| Yeah, it’s a party over here, they marching outside
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| We ain’t going nowhere
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| Looking through my closet I don’t know what I’m a wear
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| I’d rather be blind start to showing my fear
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| Money, cars, clothes, women
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| Women, clothes, cars, money
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| Funny, everybody wanna fight, and both sides screaming they right
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| We know, ah, with the spirit of my ancesters
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| You can see it when I talk, people hand gestures
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| So hip hop wrestle all gyal sweaters
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| West move friction, the contradiction
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| Often plays out, family bindess getting laid out
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| We watch it live all bull young ram, young man
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| Old timer, tryina push the old niggas out
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| We the only… believe that
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| Hey yo ad, I need some feedback
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| Should I tell these kids the truth?
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| I know they rather hear how I’m burning down the booth
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| The liquor that I drink, nothing but 100 proof
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| My fitter hat drink, my fresh pair nikes
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| I’m getting on the flight, women fucking all night
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| Throwing money in the air nigga, I don’t really care
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| Tomorrow may come, I ain’t promise to be there, I know
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| I think about cars, think about clothes
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| Think about money everywhere that I go
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| All the women in free in my vip
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| I gotta wear shades cause they looking at me
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| I’m who they wanna be this is what they strive for
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| I make it look good while I wanna be more
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| Problems still vising, I’m at the front door
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| Now I’m in the sea of people, the vanity of c through |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Exercise In Futility, artist - Rapper Big Pooh. Album song Fat Boy Fresh Volume Two: Est. 1980, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп