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I'm an Instagator period.
Song Info
Genre
Charts
#147,821 today
Peak #1,716
#92,199 in subgenre
Peak #945
Uploaded
September 04, 2004
Track Files
MP3
MP3 3.1 MB • 128 kbps • 0:00
Lyrics
They say history in the making, Its no mystery what your saying//
We're not going to blissfully miss all the shit that your facing//
You even say yourselves, we gone grow up so fast//
That we're eventually gonna see the drugs and cash//
And then we'll go, no more child to get sick of//
Become sick spitters, killahs, and drug dealers//
and do I really want this world that u left me? i dunno//
But don't go till you sew left a hole in the ozone//
like it was originally, its ur respnsibility//
Now your dumping problems on me, and soon as your rid of me//
Our age is gonna live up to all this shit//
And I'm not gonna solve it because you started this//
Chorus
Can we change our ways, Can we make a day
Where everyone's day is made, before we take away//
Everything sacred, we're down to our last chance//
Will we shine, or speak of our cherished world in the past tense//
Now lets take this back before i was even a teen//
5 years old, peeped out the window to see through a screen//
And saw a horrible sight, it was more than a fight//
2 colors, 1fast forward the others story of life//
This was towards my corner, ppl pulled it on sight//
My only lullaby was the echo of the bullets at night//
So then we bulleted outta there, now we live in the bay//
How can I repay or give god enough for not makin us stay//
Now ppl WANT the ghetto, on they first hello they done//
No way to mellow it out, you will turn yellow and run//
But when did calling it thug life begin//
When given the thug life, your life will end//
x2 Chorus
While democrats have conversations on politics//
Your mental path ain't that time is running out on all of this//
And I swear to god bush, if you win in this race//
Hope that we dont cross pathes cause Ima spit in your face//
And I'm a young gun, elders don't know where I come from//
Cause someone, every day gone make the sun come//
And that ain't gonna be them, they gone be holding their own//
Cuddled up in a spot at the funeral home//
Its rather for Children, who didn't do anything to deserve//
To inherit this bizarre, astonishing, blue and green earth//
Can we sweep society from the dust cloud left by our parents//
Or cause to hear the music of the shelter sirens blaring//
x2 Chorus
