Текст Wrekonize – How Come

Wrekonize:
Huh, uh-uh-uh, uh-uh-uh, how come
Uh-uh-uh-uh-uh-uh, how come
Uh-uh, uh-uh-uh, how come

Wrekonize:
How come they tax me just for making some bread?
I used to love being alive, so how come I can’t wait ’til I’m dead?
How come the music’s all I got in this life?
Passed down through my father even though the music biz did him trife
How come I always feel a hand in my pocket?
And when I check mics they always bounce into vanishing profit
How come radio don’t give us no play?
When our music sounds better only we don’t have the money to pay
How come the world still listens to Simon?
How come the ones who opens doors for me
Know the least of what’s behind ’em?
How come my girl stands close to my side?
Still when I swore that it was sure I’d be alone when I die
Why does high school seem miles away?
And the ones who rush to borrow college money don’t seem higher today
How come I haven’t let the politics damn me?
And how come the worst Hip Hop songs get charted for a Grammy?

Wrekonize & Vinia Mojica:
How come?
(Gotta live on, gotta fight on, got to tell me, how come)
How come?
I’m forced to live a middle class dream, when the upper class is where we belong

How come?
(Gotta live on, gotta fight on, got to tell me, how come)

Wrekonize:
How come they treat the working man like a savage?
How come I hate my ex girl, but truth be told I think, I’d still be down to smash it
How come these cats be hating on my skill?
How come these local rappers hate on each other before they get a deal?
How come some friends are like nephews and nieces
How come when tryin’ to satisfy all parties my heart be left in pieces?
The heat, the clips, how come some rappers fake the street shit?
Talking smack, but when the battle starts they actin’ Heathcliff
How come I started back in London as a quiet child
And ended up a fastfood junkie rocking a hyper style
How come musicians sign their first deal with kneepads
And when we open up for major acts we get the feedback
How come these days it be easier to hate, than to feel
Much easier to fake, than be real
I’d rather blast facts than to catch mass appeal
But how come all that matters now is just the fact you caught a deal

Wrekonize & Vinia Mojica:
How come?
(Gotta live on, gotta fight on, got to tell me, how come)
How come?
I’m forced to live a middle class dream, when the upper class is where we belong

How come?
(Gotta live on, gotta fight on, got to tell me, how come)
How come?
I’m forced to live a middle class dream, when the upper class is where we belong

Vinia Mojica:
How come, how come, how come, how come