Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song What If It Were Me, artist - Tech N9ne.
Date of issue: 08.09.2016
Song language: English
What If It Were Me |
Free your mind, and remember |
Winners are not people who never fail |
But people who never quit |
All I ever wanted was to sell |
Records to the people make a lot of mil', yessir |
Rap to me, it was the holy grail |
I’m gonna go and do it, I’m never gonna fail |
Yeah, but first I gotta make it out of Hell |
Wake up and I see crime |
All of us we on it’s eat time |
My homies love me yelling «Peace N9ne» |
At the same time, throwing B signs |
Throwing em back and repping the street, I’m |
Doing music and I’m writing beast rhymes |
But my V-Slimes, had no weak minds |
Got with the music, started a group and we shine |
Music gave us hella hope |
Made it up out of the bangin' and sellin' dope |
We were stronger than a bottle of Yoke |
Till one of our members found a kid to grope |
Then your honor gave the peddy the rope |
Losing a man, the band began to slope |
Never did think a plan was damned to croak |
So doing it solo-dolo stands the G.O.A.T |
Started making hella LP’s |
2000, all the way to five, felt free |
Because of the hand the label dealt me |
But in ‘06 Fontana helped us melt cheese |
Number one independent gonna be spending a ton of funds, in a minute |
That’s when the government want the sums, then I send it |
In a couple of months I’m done and replenished |
Everywhere I go, I’m selling out the show |
Around the world I kill em and everybody know |
Whenever we hit the studio |
And Tecca Nina drop, hot |
Even though I will go toe to toe |
If somebody bang on me, but I’m rolling in the dough |
And I’m really respected and protected |
Chances of me getting shot, not |
Everyone loving the Tech |
Publishin', I get a check |
Loving the cities that with me, the people that call me the best |
I don’t have any regret, but it’s a bit of neglect |
Missing my babies I love em and none of 'em leaving me yet |
Feeling good like a villain should |
In a mansion, but I’m still in hoods |
Not like Trayvon, J’s on |
Khaki shorts with a red tee like I will and could |
I can conceal it my permits say |
If evil happens to swerve this way |
Hope nobody deserves quick spray |
I feel an angelic surge this day |
They feeling my songs |
Been doing it long |
They want me to sell 'em my CD right outta my home |
Cos I’m in the zone |
I’m putting em on in front of the store when a couple of police won’t leave me |
alone |
Why they tripping? |
I fit the description |
It’s two of them rushing me I’m on a solo mission |
To get people to listen, but they pushing and kicking me |
I’m on the ground when they telling me, «Cause of a gun suspicion» |
It was in my pocket, ain’t trying pop it |
When they scared of a brother with a gun no one can stop it |
Then one of em lost it, and then I was shot quick |
Officers took me to heaven, I’m dead and with multiple rockets |
Didn’t matter I was good and living inside a mansion next to ball players |
'Cause of the move he made was drastic now I lay in a casket carried by my |
pallbearers |
Fears what I see, making em kill a G |
Rotten apple in the batch; |
don’t tell the rest to flee |
This happened in Baton, R-O-U-G-E, even I fit the description |
What if it was me? |
What if it was me |
What if I never got the one chance to be |
Everything and everywhere I go, I wouldn’t see |
If by your hand you took that from me |
But what if it were me? |
Laying right there |
I’ll never get up again, it’s so unfair |
My babies cry out |
You never cared |
Things that we do make each other so scared |
So what if it was you there? |
(Should I just) Take your life |
(Should I bust) Make your wife widowed, withered, hugging the pillow |
The scent of you still on her |
Spirit she feels on her |
The whole world weeps |
Blood we all spill on her |
And I know, it’s ill will; |
the pill’s hard to swallow |
How should I feel when I’m being followed (followed) |
By the words that you say to me? |
(Crazy) |
And you saved my life, take my life |
I gotta fight, all of the night with cops, crips, bloods with sore fists |
I gotta fight, all of the night with cops, crips, bloods with sore fists |
I gotta fight, all of the night with cops, crips, bloods with sore fists |
I gotta fight, all of the night with cops, crips, bloods with sore fists and |
them Nazis |