Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Illusions, artist - The Pharcyde. Album song Humboldt Beginnings, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 12.07.2004
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Illusions |
I know outside looking in the grass is greener |
Keeping up with the Joneses, got your pockets leaner |
Then Jimmy Dean making all the moves your making |
Yo do it in the burbs with the female shakin' |
Your head banging on walls, making collect calls |
Like Tia and Melissa trying to keep in touch |
The same homies used to hit up for lunch |
Are the same ones leave ya' in the cool, in the crunch |
Could it be that. |
You got us trouble |
Could it be that. |
Don’t be sure now |
Could it be that. |
You can’t just struggle |
Could it be that … illusion |
Huh, damn now I gotta brand new Benz |
Damn so many brand new friends |
But, when I didn’t have no Benz |
It was so new to frown and those who get down |
You used to having everything sugar-coated |
Though you hear the radio up |
And take it with the arm and roast it |
I Hate when niggas be trying to act all hard |
When the cameras on |
When the lights go off, they soft like |
Lamps in the camera hair |
Pharcyde gonna play the air and take you there |
You know the routine, you know the episode |
Take ya' cream, take your whole team to |
A new city, gotta a new persona now |
You can be whoever or whatever you wanna … wanna … wanna … |
Could it be that. |
You got us trouble |
Could it be that. |
Don’t be sure now |
Could it be that. |
You can’t just struggle |
Could it be that. |
illusion |
Yo, What you see may not always be |
Every persons popularity and MTV |
You’re barely 26 minutes, a yacht in the sea |
Hustling the streets, coming home at three |
But what about a nigga locked up with no plea |
Only seventeen rushed to emergency |
Didn’t make it he’s a boy, he struggled for, he’ll never see |
I felt hella bad when his girl let off at me |
There’s mice upon your man, give it all to the G’s and Feds |
I’m a do away the work will be in advance |
It was on consignment, so the city ya' fled |
So much shit is wrong that you wish you was dead |
On the escalator to heaven with the one night ticket |
They say you got the blues like Wilson Pickett |
You can’t kick it, cause you’re hot in every hood |
Got hyped on the game, but you misunderstood |
The lights and the shine, champagne, all the dimes |
Caught up in the candle light, and infiltrate your mind |
The cash and the clothes, fake fans, real foes |
Wrong placed, wrong timed, well played, real close |
Get the bullshit outta my face |
Get the bullshit outta my face, huh |
Get the bullshit outta my face |
Get the bullshit outta my face |
Ya, ya |
You need to stop fronting act like you got everything covered |
But you ain’t really takin' care of nothin' |
You need to stop sweating and jokin' fella |
Stop using all them smoke and mirrors |
You need to focus |
Hella, please, don’t make me laugh … |
Your style is fake as the man cuttin' a lady in half |
Huh, they use illusion tryna' be illusive |
Known to stay true with the flow |
And cruise on like a cruise ship |
Could it be that |
Could it be that. |
You got us trouble |
Could it be that. |
Don’t be sure |
Could it be that. |
You can’t just struggle |
Illusion |
Now… |
Could it be that… Could it be that … |