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Song Info
Genre
Charts
#142,700 today
Peak #1,034
#88,838 in subgenre
Peak #584
Author
Lyrics: Abacus
Rights
The Process
Uploaded
January 31, 2005
Track Files
MP3
MP3 3.4 MB • 128 kbps • 0:00
Lyrics
My life’s a box…an’ I’m on the outside lookin’ in…
Tryna find a reason, why we’re all breathin’…
Yet my my chest’s still heavin’…with each day that passes…
Gaspin’ for breath with each wave that crashes…
The streets maze I’m trapped in…the devious type…
Scenes of greed is like poverty feedin’ my sight…
The evenin’ is bright…nocturnal eyes accustomed…
Parked on the block like I’m always up to somethin’…
It ain’t a surpirse, look in my eyes, you’ll see hollow…
Only 15 years of age…where I walk the fiends follow…
The type of scum in the slums that be feedin’ ya lungs…
Or if ya like, I got a treat for ya tongue…
Street born…a native where the trouble’s from…
I’m so damn young…the drug money goes to bubblegum…
An’ baseball cards…that’s busted…I taste those scars…
I’ve seen some things that would break y’all’s hearts…
Then I woke up one day, sixteen…
Perception of life, it made a quick change, makin’ thick change…
It’s a bit strange, this growin’ up shit…
Trained to duck clips, when ya luck slips, it’s tough shit…
It can get rough quick, don’t get caught on the wrong street…
Chris got smoked like bong heat, it’s ‘bout to be a long week…
So many people wronged me…it’s tragic..
Sometimes I wish my Mom would’a left me in the attic…
Never rat-a-tatted, but came close on some occasions…
I was lucky, managed to escape with just abrasions…
Shit’s amazin’, street smarts is priceless…
Won’t catch me on the nightshift, without a knife kid…AT LEAST THAT!
Had a free gat, but never released caps…I’d rather bust some kneecaps…
A mean cat…I beez that….
But freeze that….f’really it’s time to change…
Life fast die young in lives of the past, an’ mine’s the same…
No time for games, I’m a big boy now…
Time to clean up, get on my own and move out…
The rocks have smoother out…Tired of fearin’ the past…
Get out my way y’all, I can see a clearing at last…
With the wind at my back, I stepped out in the world…
Had a couple real jobs and a couple fake girls…
An’ that’s real…kinda hard dealin’ with sobriety…
A noose in the streets became a lasso for society…
Why it be…so hard to exist…the fault’s mine…
Or maybe I was born in the wrong place at the wrong time…
Man…that’s the only answer I got…
I’d ask God, but that’s the only answer I got…
It’s got my hands in a knot…so my spirit is torn…
An’ I’ve played so damn much…my fiddle is worn…
Trapped inside my own…insignificant mold…
The rumors were wrong…if it glitters, it’s gold…that’s what I’ve been shown…
I wanna taste it…without holdin’ back…
My soul is the lense…experience is the photgraph…
I’ll tell ya what though…I’m grateful for my past kid…
But I’m a grown man now…an’ I still don’t have shit…!
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