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Тексты песен на английском, аккорды, табулатуры, гитара, Texts of songs, the song text, chords, notes » J » Joe Budden
Broken Wings Freestyle - текст песни

Broken Wings Freestyle

The voices ain't leave yet,

they just gettin' they feet wet

Eyes red, I'm up, ain't been to sleep yet

Damn near two days, ain't even eat yet

If you don't wanna bounce, 'least take a little recess

And still I'm faced with the bullshit

Feelin' like Willy D, Scarface and Bushwick

Dog, just when I gather its dead

I gotta knock on wood like Hank Gathers head

When I make small steps toward making it global

My tight knit circle turns into a oval

Filled with motha fuckas just pretendin' they know you

These snakes in the grass'll do whatever to coax you

Since they wanna hem you quick

I walk around like a Ginsu's tip

And that's just to get a mental grip

You don't feel what the pencil scripts

Then eight times outta ten you ain't been through shit

When you hear Joe you hear the conviction and diction

That open emotion, devotion is different

Real talk of when he ain't have a pot to piss in

He ain't have a car not one rock to glisten

I'm giving 'em non-fiction,

conning his addictions

Ya'll got the easy job, just listen

I do it for my folk and those of another pigment

A little food for thought, you feelin' malnutrition

But you don't hear a peep outta me

About the black face goin' on and the sheep leadin' sheep

It's deep, so I try to stay grounded like dad

Must be in City Island, I'm surrounded by crabs

Was once tight, grew apart for dollars

Was on the same panel, now he's Star and Barbara

Two different views, two different lifestyles

I think 'long the way one of us got confused

Look, you a hustla, still attracted to the scene

Still doin' shit I gave up at sixteen

You won't get a job, believin' your own lies

You rationalize by sayin' you pursing your dreams

You damn near thirty nigga you ain't got cream

Can't take care of you when you worried 'bout your team

My dude, want a hand out, wait in line

But the clock's still tickin' man you playin' with time,

It's so sweet

Thought I was fucked up with no shoes 'til I met me a nigga with no feet

Tried to help niggaz, some niggaz I couldn't

That's my mom in me, I love niggaz I shouldn't

Dudes wanna shoot 'em 'til he nailed

Some wanna threaten me, ruin my health

Let me teach you a little something 'bout depression

Ain't shit you could do to me I ain't already thought about doing to myself

I'm the voice for the youth that's living with no reason

Fuck record sales, I give 'em something to believe in

If your day starts in that broken home

Though we never met, 'least they feel like they not alone

Like I was back when I was tryna' find dip

The tsunami came through my hood in nine six

And tried to murder dog,

I took a little dive

Then I got on my surfin board and kept slidin'

Feel like A-Rod, some say his time's up

Boo a nigga at home, yup I'm in my prime But

he by far the best player on the team

And then turn around, drop 'em to the bottom of the lineup

Should get traded, but he don't wanna move

'Cause this the only city he got somethin' to prove

And that's why I'm seen with heaters

'Cause you can't be the man when you on the same team as Jeter Ya dig

it's like the game ain't gettin' suitable

Makin' me so sick I need Chicken Noodle Soup

Rappers flyin' high, then got suicidal

Imitate Jim Jones, end up like Cory Lidle

I married hip hop, ignored what some was tellin' me

I started hearin' rumors of infidelity,

I ain't divorce 'er

All the other dudes is so wack that I aint even feel a little jealousy

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