Lyrics Wu–Tang Clan – Do The Same As My Brother Do
Text:
RZA:
Life is what you make it
My darling, my dear
Try to make it
If I could, I would, if I can’t, I won’t
Please forgive me if I don’t
Should, some should be
I come from the strangest streets
I come from the place where love and danger meets
A house full of noisy kids, boys avoiding bids
Unemployed, on skid row, we had no toys for kids
We would bang our thumbs, gunshots, they run
We would bang on drums made from garbage cans
Even garbageman make more than mom
They make more than teachers, next door the preachers
They were sure they would reach us but we’d never listen
Niggas drunk and pissing on the side of the building
Can’t provide for children, someone stop the squealing
Turned to drugs for healing, thug sneaking and killing
Cop sirens are screaming, inside the cars, we dreaming
One day we could own one, right now we can’t bump crumbs
My brother would sell jawns, my mother would yell, «Son
You’ll end up in jail, son, or dead or in Hell, son»
But what could she tell son?
That money excel, son
Tony got knocked up, now looking for bail, son
Making collect calls, expecting that mail, son
Doing pushups in a six by four cell, son
A hard head makes a soft tail, son
And my little brother on that same trail, son
Life is a puzzle, every day is a struggle
And we ignore the ones who truly loves you
As we do foolish things we see the others do
I try to do the same things my big brother do
Life’s a struggle, we get trapped in this puzzle
And we ignore the ones who truly loves you
As we do foolish things we see the others do
I try to do the same things I saw my brother do
Loaded guns in the shoebox, fingerprints on the ooh-wop
Ziploc plastic bags with black and blue tops
We slung on the block and watch out for the blue coats
Ses blunts we pas after two tokes
Starving for a G-note back, and forth on the ferry boat
Coming up from poverty, we were very broke
To twenty-eight grams, expand to a thousand grams
Reap the twenty dollar bills passed through a thousand hands
Multi-project apartments, spots bubbling
Never went to clubs with less than a dozen men
Recruiting young gunners and runners, let my cousin in
Spot gets knocked, my brother locked the fuck up again
Another mama’s son stuck in the fucking pen
To disperse, no one to trust, back to struggling
Now I’m on the streets trying to get my hustle in
Cheap wine guzzling, life is so puzzling
Life is a puzzle, every day is a struggle
And we ignore the ones who truly loves you
As we do foolish things we see the others do
I try to do the same things my big brother do
Life’s a struggle, we get trapped in this puzzle
And we ignore the ones who truly loves you
As we do foolish things we see the others do
I try to do the same things I saw my brother do
