Lyrics Tsu Surf – Man In The Mirror
Text:
Let me walk you through the streets, walk you through the ave
At the same damn time, but you gon’ see my past
Sometimes I wonder how my mother feel
‘Cause this time two years ago we was talking through a glass
But that was just a road bump
So every bad thought from then is just another rolled blunt
Send something hot back, these niggas cold front
I said these niggas cold front
I’m the one that’s judgin’ the judge
I mean, it should never be beef if your cousin’s your cuz
And if we from the same place
Then we should double the buzz
I mean, Meek and Cass beefin’ – where’s the brotherly love?
Or maybe I’m too opinionated
They ask, «Where the facts go?» I say opinions ate it
It’s like the rumors override facts
And niggas believe anything now so I’m strapped
Never said nothin’, never told shit
And niggas say anything when y’all on shit
Get ’em cut for the green; I start mowin’ shit
I be tryna chill, they just grill, but they know the shit
Jersey bread, Garden State, so the hoes around
Lift it up, hold it down, what goes around comes around
They’re faded now, probably
Flashback to that threesome: me, Karma and Molly
But keep it low like the feds flickin’
And all these fake ass friends got my head spinnin’
Play the snakes close, but you never get in bed with ’em
And if my homie gonna go, shit, I’m dead with him!
This blunt cypher’s so therapeutic
So every bad thought from then is just another rolled blunt
Send something hot back, these niggas cold front
I said these niggas cold front
I’m the one that’s judgin’ the judge
I mean, it should never be beef if your cousin’s your cuz
And if we from the same place
Then we should double the buzz
I mean, Meek and Cass beefin’ – where’s the brotherly love?
Or maybe I’m too opinionated
They ask, «Where the facts go?» I say opinions ate it
It’s like the rumors override facts
And niggas believe anything now so I’m strapped
Never said nothin’, never told shit
And niggas say anything when y’all on shit
Get ’em cut for the green; I start mowin’ shit
I be tryna chill, they just grill, but they know the shit
Jersey bread, Garden State, so the hoes around
Lift it up, hold it down, what goes around comes around
They’re faded now, probably
Flashback to that threesome: me, Karma and Molly
But keep it low like the feds flickin’
And all these fake ass friends got my head spinnin’
Play the snakes close, but you never get in bed with ’em
And if my homie gonna go, shit, I’m dead with him!
This blunt cypher’s so therapeutic
Wanna pull that shit out? Well, you better shoot it
Thoughts of a young goon
Just try to document this shit if death come soon
Couple scabs, but I never healed from some wounds
Couple scabs, but I never healed from some wounds
Thoughts of a young goon
Just try to document this shit if death come soon
Couple scabs, but I never healed from some wounds
Couple scabs, but I never healed from some wounds
