Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song The Cycle, artist - William Cooper
Date of issue: 04.05.2015
Song language: English
The Cycle |
You can hear the strings of the violin welcome me in |
Feels like the pain under your skin when you livin' in sin |
Sounds of a dirty syringe, heroin gon' swim |
Polluting the souls of the project kids |
Born to drug fiends, growin' up to jail bids |
Broken dreams and promises fuel gang violence and |
Pigs always show up when the guns is done firing |
Another family crying, another funeral |
Another retaliation, another burial |
And that cycle gonna continue until you see the God in you |
Kings and queens of the earth with a lethal virtue |
Crack rocks shape the block like an earthquake do |
Drive-bys in the hood with the plates removed |
Bandanna gun handle for the flag you choose |
Putting they conscience to sleep when them hammers is used |
Penetrate the penitentiary swallowing balloons |
Poison the prison system crushed glass in your food |
History repeats itself (The Cycle) |
Kids having kids killing kids (The Cycle) |
Drug addiction gettin' passed down through the umbilical |
Until you wake up you’re just a slave to the cycle |
You can hear the snatch of click like hollow tips when you fillin' the clip |
Hundred dollar spliffs spillin' the piff |
You don’t even get high anymore barely feelin' the lift |
You need a whole fifth of whisky to drift |
Take it back to the cycle that twist (?) |
Like a python to eat itself to muffle it’s hiss n a puddle of piss |
Self-destructive pitch drunk in the whip |
Jump the curb struck a bitch and hit her mother and her kid |
Ain’t nothing new under the solar system |
Cause even in the summer time the soul of the street is ice cold like winter |
Deep freeze like 40 below booze (?) |
And no more fights around here no more the shorty’s all shoot |
Three sixty round table |
Shot with a three-pound four Gs is piece and the cable (?) |
Different generation same shit though |
Same blood thirst, same ignorance |
Same motivation when the gun bursts |
It’s like a cycle |
Some will go home some will go witness |
Like somebody gotta lose in order for you to win |
You got your delicate predicate felons who couldn’t swim |
Got caught up in a tide now he’s facing a five to ten |
Try to game but who sayin' bucks you slang dusk (?)* |
Now you came up get * |
You can’t trust niggas around who permanently press you |
These niggas bank for they colors but they don’t really rep you |
Hang you out to dry, got they crooked eyes all in your spot |
Airing out your dirty laundry now they all in your socks |
Wolves in sheep clothing, heat holding, calling the cops |
Got the police rolling out of (beats) controlling the block |
You was on top now you in a box caged in |
Through the years full of cheer now your world’s caved in |
Born and raised in a family of made * ?? |
A cycle’s still repeated at the day’s end and grey jims (?) |