TestoThe Narrow Path

Blu

  • Autori del testo:
  • Blu
Ultima modifica il: 29 luglio 2019
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Tryna tell my folks that flowing ain't easy Travelling down this yellow brick road until it frees me I need a pen, I need a pad, I need a place to go

To get this shit lifted off a my soul Picture me sitting in front of eighty-eight keys trying to escape From a shady place where babies blaze trees on a daily day Tryna get they gravy straight to floss cause told me homey watch it These ladies play dirty games with you get to grinding Where niggas pitch as quick as Nolan Ryan Holding iron, blowing smoke, elope in fire, flame spitting The game is just a way to escape And our pain is just a way we can relate to folks crying Finding ways I can make a difference But fuck wishing on a star Cause the percentage of getting what you envisioned is small And the stars barely shine in the city, so we're blinded By the man-made bright lights, making my eyes shifty Feel me out, hear me now, crying childs of the ghetto Lettin go a beautiful sound, it's kinda falsetto Hello hell, welcome to L.A. where devils that dwell play They meddle with metal and letting every shell spray Until day dawns, I make songs for the long road travelers And lost souls after us Spitting lyrics vicious like I'm mad as fuck Packing up my bags, hopping back on the narrow path that's planned for us In this world that I'm living in I've given into sex, stress, and dividends Los Angeles, metropolis, city of vexed citizens Folks that smoke infinite dope for hope living in Poverty is probably the less stressed position to go So we don't have positions to hold So we pitch snow and live in the cold in hell In hell felling heaven is close But like road kill im still on this road Bold as any soilder playing his role I stroll the streets in the cold Even in the summer heat it gets cold So we stroll with the heat and it's cold It's beeen a long troublesome road and im still traveling Fuck battling, just managing life is challenging Though I managed to make it I damaged the places up in my mind Like the times of Los Angles greatest Wasting time and lifespans fucking around I'm spitting deep shit stuck underground So just dig it, or don't fuck with it Cause you can't fuck with it Check it and I'll be playing Escapism by Pete Rock Hot, watching police plot knocks to get my peeps locked Smiling as my teeth rot from eating sugar coated quotes Smoking dope to float away, but hey The air is nice up there I swear the feeling's good as chilling with a nice cold beer We fallen angels rocking halo's like it's priced up gear And if you need me, just ring me, shit I'll be right up here Where fear is non-existent Instead of drifting in a prison, where my mind's restricted Where my Mom is wishing trying to get her broken promise mended I'm training to be a seamstress, sewing holes that dreams fit Fiends bring broken clocks, tryna get their dreams fixed Ticking, itching, tocking watching, God is watching you But you rather have a watch with lots of diamonds About hoes or saving souls, they wanna hear that beat ride I rewind and try to play back the days that they would play stacks Of 8-tracks to recline, now we blaze sacks Taking back the feeling hidden in me when we used to smile, remember that It's been a while, so I'm blowing off the dust Brushing dirt up off my nutts, got this feeling in my gut Im tryna let it out so if you with me then listen up, listen Listen up cause uh, I got this feeling in my gut

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