GZA (aka The Genius)
GZA (aka The Genius) - Short Race songtekst
Je score:
GZA] He's running in a short race, shoelace untied Head down, facial expression he can't hide Kid with no direction, seems confused A victim who spent years, being abused His moms a drug addict, she has a bug habit Was a seven day event, since she celebrated the Sabbath But she back slid, or that's what the crack did She used to shoot up, under her sleeves, the track hid A long time ago, the father left the picture And as time went on, he was erased from the scripture The son, he don't have much to treasure And these kids that be getting on him, they do it for pleasure Demons are gradually growing inside him Way before he ever knew the courts would divide him A wall around himself had became a shell Was a whole new person, by the time the bricks fell [Chorus: Rock Marcy] It's a short race, duck the court dates The pork gave chase, we had to walk straight You know the forte, nigga it's a portrait Or should I say a poor trait You want to store very short cake Estate, behind the gate N.Y. State, why wait? You trying to get paid by the lake In each state, and do the shit at high pace [GZA] Under the dirt, there was nothing left but bones A lot of tall grass around his tombstone His mother left alone, her heart felt sorrow No time to play with the precious time we borrow They live next door, but he was worlds away In reality, but such a high price to pay He was easy to recognize from his dress code Nothing but a firework about to explode A short fuse, who was bound to lose in the struggle His grandparents went through a great deal of trouble To keep him out of jail, they even put they house on sale To post bail, but the kid still failed I remember when he called collect from behind bars Suffering from two injuries and nine scars He said he'd give anything to be out the pen But it would be his permanent home until the end [Chorus] [Rock Marcy] Wait, I got to get mines With a side of French fries, not kid sized Sixes fives, I give off a pimp's vibe Is it the vines? Watch like a sitcom Throwing rocks with my pitching arm More bricks than when the Knicks is on, I'm sitting on Shitting on your boss, been written off Shots I'm licking off, the top like a different source Ripping this raw like a kitchen chore That's a block not chicken broth Hold the pot with your mittens on Dicks kicking in the door, and went to pick me off like a lintball Jumped out the fifth floor it's a pit fall When I hit the lawn, shit it fell like a jigsaw Rather get hit at the board, then to get tossed Went to court, got shipped off like a brick of soft [Chorus: Rock Marcy] It's a short race, duck the court dates The pork gave chase, we had to walk straight You know the forte, nigga it's a portrait Or should I say a poor trait You want to store very short cake Estate, behind the gate N.Y. State, why wait? You trying to get paid by the lake In each state, and do the shit at high pace