Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Memory Serves Me, artist - Skyzoo. Album song Milestones, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 18.06.2020
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Mello
Song language: English
Memory Serves Me |
Born alone die alone’s what the motto is |
Lived up to every word, overly proud of it |
But knowing there’s tag teams when you get to the heart of it |
For all of us lucky enough to know where our fathers is |
Our father who art in the living room cracking a brew |
Know where I’m attached even when I’m attached to the stoop |
Thinking I’m doing more than I am 'til you hand me the news |
Like I know everything you that you on, I’m actually you |
I grew up outside just like the rest of us did, him included |
Prayer hands up for all of the ways that I been influenced |
Fully loaded, one stick for the crew, stick and moving |
14 in my pop’s hands, hoping his grip will loosen |
But fuck if it didn’t, he never would so I was good on a couple decisions |
Remember so and so had pulled out a bucket to pitch in |
I fell back when I would normally jump in position |
Regretted it til they put everyone under the prison |
That’s like one of 100 times |
But feeling obligated to jump up in front the line |
Stuck am I between a corner store and a blurried line |
Where the shootings' forever and the lobster is butterflied |
Stuck am I, down for whatever, nothing rides |
But knowing how the end of the movie is underlined |
And knowing my pop starred in that movie a couple times |
I already knew the script, what a surprise |
If memory serves me |
I remember wondering what all of that work be |
Posted on the same stoop like what the word be |
But someone was always standing behind me to curb me |
From off where that curb be |
If memory serves me |
Son I remember jumping off the stoop all thirsty |
But being taught that the corner won’t ever deserve me |
And someone was always standing behind me to curb me |
From off where that curb be |
If memory serves me |
I was born in Kings County, shooters beside me |
My son was born in the same hospital as Blue Ivy |
My father was 20, I was 35 |
I’m still tryna measure up to the world he designed |
I’m in a world of a bind, like how worldly am I? |
To understand the corner store and the world it defines |
But comfy in Carnegie Hall like my world wasn’t dire |
A world of broadway and a world of suppliers |
Bag a nickel bag of funk on the live '96 case |
And write a thesis on what you see and how the fix tastes |
Stories that they sing when it hits and how it fixates |
My average through the roof but still grainy as mixtapes |
And po-9 see me the same as who standing next to me |
But knowing the drop due to my pop’s how I get to be |
Giving you all the above as opposed to a sketch of me |
And all of the should’ve could’ve would’ves that I could’ve put up |
And now I look up, red cup pour down |
Walls full of murals, shit my father tore down |
All of this was thought out, whether I was thinking or not |
Somebody was thinking in case I ain’t think out the box |
So stuck am I, down for whatever, nothing rides |
But knowing how the end of the movie is underlined |
And knowing my pop starred in that movie a couple times |
I already knew the script, what a surprise |
If memory serves me |
I remember wondering what all of that work be |
Posted on the same stoop like what the word be |
But someone was always standing behind me to curb me |
From off where that curb be |
If memory serves me |
Son I remember jumping off the stoop all thirsty |
But being taught that the corner won’t ever deserve me |
And someone was always standing behind me to curb me |
From off where that curb be |
If memory serves me |
My memory ain’t fade yet |
I came up out the same door off the same steps |
In love with in the same allure |
Like what is we waiting for |
'Til I’m gone know that I ain’t change yet |
If memory serves me |
I remember wondering what all of that work be |
Posted on the same stoop like what the word be |
But someone was always standing behind me to curb me |
From off where that curb be |
If memory serves me |
Son I remember jumping off the stoop all thirsty |
But being taught that the corner won’t ever deserve me |
And someone was always standing behind me to curb me |
From off where that curb be |
If memory serves me |