like P said...
You can't run from the, nah, look, uh, you can't run from the laws, I came up from the
flaws
What's worth death
Nothing at all
Pain tough through the falls
You can't hurt through the walls
I gave birth through the loss
Hate cursing it all
And these curtains will draw
Like P said, where your, huh
Like P said where your heart at
I left mine where the art it
It's ten lines you could call back
Mines where he cross at
I'm still trying what you call that
He ain't woke but he up
Ten bowls ain't enough
I'm ten toes in the dust
I hang ropes on the bluff
Gave hope out of love
He ain't broke but he was
It's bank rolls in the tub
They chosen is us
I gave Brody a cut
We sank boats on the cusps
Slang over the gun
I can't go for the blunts
From Sankofa to France
They known we the ones
God grown from the lungs
I'm not known but above
Top row at the Suns
Potholes in the trust
My soul filled up with suds
Too clean, have you washed up
He was on it heavy when he saw us
Two, three G's when he bossed up
You ain't know degrees
It was y'all luck, penetrating evil
And I'ma meet it with a long gun
Son, you with the wrong ones
Daydreaming of the Porsche truck
These lessons of the mind
I've been blessing them with mine
I killed depression over time,
We on the precipice of pride
P said, where ya heart at
I left mine in the garbage
Inside of the poor pit
I'm still trying what you call this
P said where ya
Uh, P said where ya
flaws
What's worth death
Nothing at all
Pain tough through the falls
You can't hurt through the walls
I gave birth through the loss
Hate cursing it all
And these curtains will draw
Like P said, where your, huh
Like P said where your heart at
I left mine where the art it
It's ten lines you could call back
Mines where he cross at
I'm still trying what you call that
He ain't woke but he up
Ten bowls ain't enough
I'm ten toes in the dust
I hang ropes on the bluff
Gave hope out of love
He ain't broke but he was
It's bank rolls in the tub
They chosen is us
I gave Brody a cut
We sank boats on the cusps
Slang over the gun
I can't go for the blunts
From Sankofa to France
They known we the ones
God grown from the lungs
I'm not known but above
Top row at the Suns
Potholes in the trust
My soul filled up with suds
Too clean, have you washed up
He was on it heavy when he saw us
Two, three G's when he bossed up
You ain't know degrees
It was y'all luck, penetrating evil
And I'ma meet it with a long gun
Son, you with the wrong ones
Daydreaming of the Porsche truck
These lessons of the mind
I've been blessing them with mine
I killed depression over time,
We on the precipice of pride
P said, where ya heart at
I left mine in the garbage
Inside of the poor pit
I'm still trying what you call this
P said where ya
Uh, P said where ya
Credits
Writer(s): Canoy Tyree
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
© 2024 All rights reserved. Rockol.com S.r.l. Website image policy
Rockol
- Rockol only uses images and photos made available for promotional purposes (“for press use”) by record companies, artist managements and p.r. agencies.
- Said images are used to exert a right to report and a finality of the criticism, in a degraded mode compliant to copyright laws, and exclusively inclosed in our own informative content.
- Only non-exclusive images addressed to newspaper use and, in general, copyright-free are accepted.
- Live photos are published when licensed by photographers whose copyright is quoted.
- Rockol is available to pay the right holder a fair fee should a published image’s author be unknown at the time of publishing.
Feedback
Please immediately report the presence of images possibly not compliant with the above cases so as to quickly verify an improper use: where confirmed, we would immediately proceed to their removal.