Текст ScHoolboy Q – Live Again
Текст:
Kendrick Lamar
Lifestyles of a kid that never had shit
Living off that bad shit, that shoot shit, that stab shit
Rock a flag and don’t give a fuck about U.S. flag shit
motherfucking eight-balls till we live at the pool hall
and knock billiards out of business, ya bitch
That’s my surroundings in Compton, have common sense
Smell death in the air round here, that’s a common scent
You know the gunpowder
You when your homie barely blink he just done powder, only at seventeen
You know the common statistic inspired by Hoop Dreams
Now hired by street schemes of getting blood money
I try my best to stay focussed and hope the city love me
Pray it’s not lust, cause if it is I’ll be dead in a month
Lord forbid, for the good kid, they took his life
She want her baby back like a cooked rib, but that’s just life
where I’m from
Chorus: Kendrick Lamar
If there’s a shining star
Hope my city’s not too far
So we can live again
See, where I come from it’s hard
Hope all over we can start
So we can live again, so we can live again
CurT@!n$
I seen this youngun on the train, I had to pick his brain
He said he on his way uptown to get a brick of ‘caine
He said he needed a come up cause selling nicks was lame
He needed a change, so I gave him fifty cent
I’d rather give you my last to see you live again
Just cause you change what you pitching don’t make the difference
You gotta get off the mound and put the game down
Petty thoughts could keep your brain down
I leave you with that jewel, go get the chain now, and put it together
See, coming up we ain’t have shit to keep our mind focussed
I love Mike, but it was a hassle trying to buy Jordans
My nigga hustled all day in front of the corner store
to get a pair, and niggas killed him right in front of the mall
Huh, so all that hustling for nothing then
I threw my pair on the light pole because of him
like, fuck it man
Chorus
ScHoolboy Q
Tryna move forward, though it never stops
A mother’s son dead, was killed by some kids, popped shots
They back and forth
Murder for murder, the beef recycled is vital
No idols, bunch of ’em read bibles
Allies that turned to rivals, niggas turned street disciples
Smokers get high as Eiffels
Addicted to being fiends cause of Feds, as we pledge to let our plague spread
Tiny this, and if it that they banging back
as they a-dapt to being black, straps and gang tats, look
Rats get mouse traps, can’t afford tuition
But hit a lick, I bet I earn crack, I heard that
Looking at the sky, just hoping that a light will shine
Daylight saving time all the time on this block of mine
All the time with this Glock of mine
Swear to God man it ain’t a rhyme, I grind for a piece of mind
Co-sign
Chorus
Excerpt of Black Ice performing on Def Poetry
«When you look at my brothers, what’s your first impression?
Does the sight of us leave you guessing, or do you understand the stressing?
The aggression, the look of no hope on my niggas’ faces
like the Lord overlooked us when he handed down his graces
You see embraces fall short on the numb tips of street entrepreneur fingers
Stuck on the walls of the project halls where the coke smell still lingers
External blingers is all we can be, cause on the inside we’ve been given nothing to shine on
And a gig is harder to get than coke, so niggas get they grind on
cause the TV tells us, aim high nigga, make all goals lateral
But see that takes paper that we don’t have so niggas put they souls up as collateral
Now, some niggas reclaim ’em, some blame ’em, make an excuse to sell ’em
But when a nigga goes from not doing to doing, what can you tell him?
Not to be a nigga? Shit, I gots to be a nigga, that’s how I pay the bills
and I’ma do that whether I got to sling this coke or exploit these rhyme skills»
Chorus