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Текст (слова) песни: Brotha Lynch Hung - Tried to Shoot

I be havin` bad dreams about doin` bad things
No money, my momma is gone, it`s a sad thing
And the devil is laughin, if there was such a thing
You couldn`t weigh my problems out with a human triple beam
I`m all fucked up, you might find me in the dump truck
Gin in my cup, hundred and fifty on the rough
I`m a tough act to follow, leave your chest hollow
See it ain`t that tough, heat that ass up with the ralo
And hit the road, explode niggas with old vendettas
I talk alot of shit so my click pack berettas to rip back your leather
The world is cold, you could find me inside the bottle at 15 years old
I was tired of all the arguin`, fussin`, and fightin`
Ten years later I`m borrowin, adjusting the mic and
Try`na make it through these hard times, tellin` my problems
But who cares, everybody I know got `em
I`m upstairs, starin` out the window drinkin O.E
I know this bottle really love me, I love you too
You be helpin` me through my problems, killin` my fears
And you understand when I break down you bring out the tears
And you give me heart, but I just can`t take it
Shit`s hella fucked up, bad luck, just can`t shake it
Half way to the grave, half way from birth
Try`na wonder what my life is worth
I think I`m cursed

[Chorus] x2
I put the gun to my head, tried to shoot
I think I`m better off dead, where`s my kids?
Make sure they ain`t around, tell `em I love um
Tell `em bend down on the ground, plug ya ears
What you hear ain`t nothin` but a cartoon
A bad dream, your daddy, he comin` back soon
In another form, re-born, with some great expectations
I`ma miss you too, believe it

Got dealt some bad punches, but I`ma roll with it
Got served some bad lunches, so who can I trust?
Got love and I don`t want it, who`s teachin` me hate?
Got hate when I don`t need it, I believe in my faith
Diagnosed manic depressive, only learned one lesson
And that`s fuck it, forget it, and let it die like the rest of `em
Battled with the best of `em, they can`t touch me
Then shadowed out the rest of `em, you can`t fuck me
Might as well go `head and let me murder myself
Niggas got hate for me anyway, take it, it`s hell
And if I see you at the funeral, I`ma reach out for you
That one up in the corner, give his ass to the coroner
He just another foreigner, all in my mix
Don`t have the slightest idea how I`m feelin `bout shit
Cuz I maintain my composure, never tellin` the plan
My brain stained in dosia, I`m tellin` you man

[Chorus] x1

 

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Все тексты песен: Brotha Lynch Hung

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 » Brotha Lynch Hung - Return Of Da Baby Killa
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 » Brotha Lynch Hung - Thats What I Said
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