Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Tribulations, artist - Sunz Of Man. Album song Natural High, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 03.07.2017
Record label: Echo, Red Ant, Wu Tang
Song language: English
Tribulations |
I ain’t want nothing known but a bank roll. |
On the other side of 123rd St., bro'. |
Nothing known but a bank roll. |
On the other side of 123rd St., bro'. |
Bringing it straight off the currency. |
Now this shit is tough. |
I got this shit magic from here to Texas trap. |
With the god’s jewels stash. |
I ain’t want nothing known but a bank roll. |
On the other side of 123rd, bro'. |
Yo, that’s that. |
I ain’t want nothing known but a bank roll. |
Chorus: Prodigal Sunn |
Life is reality, reality is life |
People living trife, the world filled with strife |
The gods living, writing exact, too many lacks |
Black on black crime, no vest, another victim laided to rest |
Life is reality, reality is life |
Niggaz living trife, bitches living sheisty, |
the gods living, writing exact |
Too many lacks, black on black crime |
No vest, another victim laided to rest |
Life is reality, reality |
Life is reality, reality |
Life is reality, reality is life |
Niggaz living trife, bitches living sheist |
The gods living, writing exact |
Too many lacks, black on black crime |
No vest, another victim laided to rest |
Life is reality, reality, life is reality |
Life is reality, reality |
Break bread, eliminate feds and dead heads |
I seen the bloodshed, devils decay, torture, enslave |
>From Red Hook to Compton, Fort Green to Albany |
Galleries of artillery, a symphony, millitary |
Some adversaries and fairies caught the bad decision |
Physical collision, we leave 'em deaf and holy like some christians |
(A new incorporation, your rap exoriantation |
Not a reorientation, or interntation |
More and more foes is what I’m chasing |
Low down international business, players exchanging |
Your ears pound, throw down erasing) |
Maneuvering, moving like slugs from a silencer |
My fleet of seven on your calender, fuck an amateur |
(Game premeditated, crime related, rhyme intensive |
Chess, some hardest gamers, the world black as entertainment) |
Your time is short, change your thought, rearrange your sports |
Before being pork on a fork, I get scorched by the torch |
In this Sunz of Man federation, pure meditation |
Righteous advigation, teaching for the blind in my nation |
(Still remaining through all the shot reigning |
Hit grim, stitchy grain, playing half, broke that untouchable |
Still tapping plants, by the forced in, rap street, yo extortion) |
Chorus: Prodigal Sunn |
Life is reality, reality is life |
People living trife, the world filled with strife |
The gods living, writing exact, too many lacks |
Black on black crime, no vest, another victim laided to rest |
Life is reality, reality is life, reality |
In the beast like orcra, swim across the border |
Walk upon the water, holding the minora |
Reaching for the tora, face full of torture |
One deeper than my ora, I stalk ya with the offer |
Law and order, cut your day shorter |
Slaughter everybody in the party |
(Check the godly, from the cradle to the graves |
We hell raise you, break your bread at the table |
With my real Kane and Ables it gets fable |
We build stables, we drop jewels that enslave you) |
Wear the wooden bander, seven shield commander |
Wave the golden banner, swinging down the hammer |
In the house of David, we gold, true laces |
Diamond braclets, niggaz on that snake ship |
(There ain’t no love without the hatred |
The cure for the snakes in the snakepits |
Created and those that’s belated |
It’s too much, you fear, must prepare scuba-gear |
Got a ocean of the dry potion, we mind smoking |
We blind for the thugs and drug dealers |
Who used to be pyramid builders, ancient healers |
Stand for mirrors, all they see is cap pealers and reflection |
Moon do me right, give me night life, let me run in all directions) |
Worldly impressions, natural infections, massive depression |
Dealing with reality, fantasies is nothing but a fantasy |
I see it’s all vanity, humanities, who volcanically |
Satanically, on the edge of my sanity, can’t we be all family |
(Various talk to fade) |