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Song Info
Genre
Charts
Peak #1,201
Peak in subgenre #207
Author
Ryan Stinson
Uploaded
September 13, 2005
Track Files
MP3
MP3 4.5 MB • 128 kbps • 0:00
Story behind the song
Eminem murdered this... and his style sorta goes perfect with the song... so much shit to say, in so little time, nah mean?
Lyrics
Don't even read into, people who believe I don't be hurt / Open my closet, for the purpose of rockin' a t-shirt...
Across my chest is the words, that be drivin' me bezerk / Rest In Peace, to a fallen soul who dove feet-first...
Yet we workin' the nine to five, just tryna provide / Some food inside stomach's thats hungry for lives of crime
I designed this rhyme while lookin' back on my past / Reminiscin fast, bout crooks who got took and snatched
While cookin' slabs, in a hot kitchen wit' no air / It's unfair, yet people wonder why we give cold stares
But don't smile, cuz these coke vials is so wild / That one hit will leave a pregnant chick wit' no child
My whole style, is based on race and income / Paid dues to lose, yet sometimes we win some
Been in some, funeral services you would prefer to miss / But didn't because of a certain turn of events
Determined as shit, I hope this verse will reach those / People, wit minds as narrow as keyholes
I dare you to be Flow and feel what I've felt / Wit that steel on my belt, these scenes make eyes melt
I've dealt wit shit like foes exposin' wratchets / Totin' gats that, put an end to open caskets
So disastrous, yet the masses cheer on / The fans are still standin', as artists we're gone
They hear songs, and forget we're all just human / Since sorrows loomin', some of us often fumin'...
I'm consumed wit', thugs that's runnin' wit' crews / Why would I front on you dudes, I ain't got nothin' to prove CUZ
I remember a time... way back in the day... Grindin', before I even considered rap as a way
To escape, all the triflin' anger that I was feelin', slangin' & dealin' while steady hangin' in front of buildin's
Wit stranger's concealin' weapons, yet never did I feel threatened, People had my back for a fact, that's somethin' I never questioned
Felt respected in different areas and places we walked, Carried teks to avoid gettin' buried & layin in chalk
Haters could talk but didn't for fear of retaliation... My saddles waitin', we ride through ya' streets like the sanitation
Department in big trucks, I would off you for ten bucks... My ways been buck, I'll spark in a park & make kid's duck
Or not & get shot down, we all that we got now, I can easily kill you, for real I ain't forgot how
To cock it and let it blast, just to pocket a little cash, Stopped stoppin' at spots on the ave, coppin' a little stash...
You noddin' but when I pass, you fags go back to bitchin'... If crack is pitchin', then why do you even feel that you have to mention
What you gettin' on these streets you supposedly run... Seen peeps deceased, Increase the peace by holdin' my gun
Never holdin' my tongue, always speakin' my mind / Regardless if Death is over my shoulder, sneakin' behind
I seek and I find, ways to prevent headin' to God... I'm like Fat Joe, if I go, that's the end of the Squad
Pitiful plots from freaks who breech and envision shit / I never start beef but I damn sure will finish it
Remember this, Da Kid Source is potent as rum / Arose with the sun, re-set ya' set you choke and ya' done
Most of us dumb, gettin' blazed at places for play... Or waitin' for yay, the Lord giveth and taketh away...
Maybe that's why we pray on our knees when the night fall... Or even the reason why these emcees seem to write all
Gangsta music, just further provin', the point that I'm makin... Whenever voices is raisin', that's when a point can get taken...
Across the line of return, my losses provided a firm... Motivation for patience till I decided to learn... THAT
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