Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Stuff is Tuff , by - The Grouch. Song from the album The Tortoise and The Crow, in the genre Рэп и хип-хопRelease date: 17.02.2014
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Stuff is Tuff |
| There’s a space, it was clear in the place but |
| All the grace disappeared, filled up, with all this stuff |
| It’s too real not to hate how it feels, yes |
| Can’t deal with the heal that it makes |
| It’s getting too tough |
| Give me no tangible, give me no hostile |
| Give me respect as a human I ask you |
| Give me your love, give me your laughter |
| Won’t need no more matter, no manufacture |
| (Show me your life (x4)) |
| Everything takes energy and time |
| Stacking up possessions, in essence what you find |
| Let’s focus on the mind, dividing |
| I’ll be on a mission of not buying |
| True I get too attached |
| To the clothes and the cars |
| Saving shit like a packrat |
| Might go in a jar |
| And live in a corner |
| I don’t use it, hell nah |
| I really just want to be free from it all |
| But I’m me damn it, and I’m learning the laws |
| Not being ungrateful, could be worse off |
| Maintaining a plateful, minus a stock |
| I’m not gonna be wasteful, just tasteful, watch |
| What I need a mansion for, to get lost? |
| What I need expansion for, to be the boss? |
| No loss, not interested |
| Uh, I’d rather keep it way more simplistic |
| There’s a space, it was clear in the place but |
| All the grace disappeared, filled up, with all this stuff |
| It’s too real not to hate how it feels, yes |
| Can’t deal with the heal that it makes |
| It’s getting too tough |
| Give me no tangible, give me no hostile |
| Give me respect as a human I ask you |
| Give me your love, give me your laughter |
| Won’t need no more matter, no manufacture |
| (Show me your life (x4)) |
| We got a lot of things |
| Rugs, balls, dolls, couches, hats, and rings |
| Rather miscellaneous |
| Now my baby want a metal detector, and my cranium |
| Houses are dry, archives in the 70s |
| Maybe I could stack it sky-high, full of memories |
| Organized, lives are for into me |
| Mama is a borderline hoarder, our energy |
| Me cleansing, there’s no pretending |
| Water for the gutter, if I stutter then it’s inching up |
| I get to venting, singing such a song |
| What’s the ending, not bringing much along |
| 'Cause when you die you want your spirit to fly |
| And when you here then you fear it’s a lie |
| But if you try |
| You could disappear without hiding |
| Go on and cut the cords and keep rising |
| There’s a space, it was clear in the place but |
| All the grace disappeared, filled up, with all this stuff |
| It’s too real not to hate how it feels, yes |
| Can’t deal with the heal that it makes |
| It’s getting too tough |
| Give me no tangible, give me no hostile |
| Give me respect as a human I ask you |
| Give me your love, give me your laughter |
| Won’t need no more matter, no manufacture |
| (Show me your life (x4)) |