Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song From the Soul, artist - Square One. Album song Walk of Life, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 28.07.2016
Record label: Showdown
Song language: English
From the Soul |
Pushin' a whip, cell vibratin' my hip |
With a fifth o that good shit wettin' my lips |
Got five more spots that I got to hit |
I flip broccoli, knowin' that I got to quit |
Ouiet is kept, don’t wanna get my mom upset |
If she only knew her son was a ten year vet |
No regrets for chillin' at the high school sets |
Sellin' to kids that hadn’t reached eighteen yet |
They say you reap what you sew, but these streets I know |
For sho', is mo' betta than an eight to fo' |
Either way I go I still gotta make that dough |
So my hustle right now is to make phat shows |
Bros, hoes and family, watchin’em grow |
Photos of little niggas at ten years old |
When we had fun time never went by slow |
Now l’m over thirty and still tryin' to roll |
Paul C., to whom all praise is due |
And Allah for makin' me stay with you |
Bumped heads many times but we made it through |
Ass whippings with a switch till my shit was blue |
Who knew I’d ever be the man I grew in to? |
Pops' attitude mixed with my Moms' mental |
Their parental advice highly influential |
My potential has peaked, now I speak through my pencil |
I walk a thin line between purgatory and hell |
My broken English, locked in allegories of jail |
Heard the wiseman’s pain in further stories to teil |
You know the ghetto-fabulous, street-glories that failed |
On the park bench with sixty-four squares to link |
Just rolled something, whatever was there to drink |
Few of us did seek an atmosphere to think |
How to stick white folks for their share of mink! |
Foster-Kids shooting hoops and dice in fubu garments |
Rocking them Air Force Ones to loose farmers |
Smooth karma’s, brothers boost armour |
We had to live in a two bedroom-appartment |
A snot-nose grows with his wings lo spread |
My old man, I never listened to a thing he said |
Lt’s hust sad to watch Mama sling in the bread … |
While l’m ducking swings towards my head! |
Run but can’t hide, escaping denial |
These streets of Babylon have never shaped a smile |
I am what I am and couldn’t change my style |
Pay attention and ya hear Iman tape the trial … |
To excel until my blood turns blue |
Have you ever felt the pain when slugs burn through? |
By any means, until my blood turns blue |
Have you ever felt the pain …? |