Текст Joe Budden – Freight Train

Yo, shakers, movers, haters, rapists, losers, liars, takers, shooters
with ubsurded things like I was 13
when he burst on the scene
that eventually hurt Keem

Yo, self, pity, chasin, wealth
could be sickly if ya fend for yaself in city like nitty
who sold dope his whole life, the nigga sold dope to his own wife
he knew her death would come soon
bein real how much drugs could she consume
even hid guns in his sons room
but they dont know its a secret believe it
he dont want them to get hit the way that he did
house raided, drove by the house sprayed it
ran in stole his stash, spouse naked
its real here, he thankful that he still here
caught’em nine times he’ll easily take the wheelchair

Yo, his spited vengence, moreso extensive
revenge is best served cold but its expensive
near steps, to revenge is near death
he disappears stressed reappears witha tech
you kill his dog, he gone kill your cat
hispops killed his mother so he killed his dad
in his head he like god damnit he crept over
with the same gun his pop planted that he slept over
raised as a killa from an age thats a thrilla
age with no filta and that rage is familiar now
faith has him sleepin over that guy responsible for that black patch over his eye
pillow over al’s face he leaned over and cried
he sighed and said your parents wont know that you died
death penalty, no annesty just insanity
clock ticks on the last member of his immediate family