Saigon

Saigon - Gotta Believe It songtekst

Je score:




[Chorus: Just Blaze (Saigon)]

Whoa-ohh, we keep risin to the top

Whoa-ohh, and keep eyes out for the cops

Whoa-OHH! And that's what it's gon' be

Whoa-OHH! Cause you ain't gon' stop me

They got you workin two jobs tryin to make ends meet

You just tryin to keep yo' kids off the street

You gotta believe it (best believe if you dream it)

Oh, you better believe it (you too can achieve it)

Uh-oh, they got you locked in a hole, 19 years old

Ten years, no chance for parole

You better believe it (that's right, tell 'em again)

Oh, you gotta believe it (after that, tell a friend)

Ohhh-ohhh



[Saigon:]

After the sunshine come the rain, after the fun time come the pain

I often wonder if it's gonna change

I caught a bad case of Smack-a-Bitchy-Itis (what happened?)

I came home, my wife got my daughter in shitty diapers (damn)

The rice is still raw, and the meat is still frozen in the freezer

I hate that I'm too close to her to leave her

Either I hit the street to do some pitchin, knowin these dudes is snitchin

Or die tryin to make it as a musician

My livin condition is not in the greatest position (nope)

And nah I ain't bitchin, I just gotta make a decision

Should I breeze past, hop out in a ski mask

Rob everything movin and cruise in a G-Class (vroom!)

But keep writin the heat that the street like it

Young'uns is recitin my lyrics, so keep bitin

Y'all niggaz thinkin shit is easy, it's hard

One thing I know I'm a do is keep believin, keep believin in God



[Chorus]



[Saigon:]

After the fast songs come the slow, after the sad songs come some mo' (mo')

This is the life I have come to know

Police is in Marquis', Chevy Caprices stroll

The young hood boogers idolize Keyshia Cole

The rap figures throwin money in the air like it's pizza dough

People in the hood ain't eatin though (though)

I tried to help the labels see the vision

But they lowered me to a subdivision, you gotta be fuckin kiddin

They'd rather me pretend to be somethin I'm not

I'm the new Public Enemy, I'm different than Yung Joc

And nah, I ain't dissin, this nigga's up in the Forbes

Shit I ain't made a dollar tryin to rap for the cause

But in these next four bars, I'll tell you about maleviolent laws

They enforcin on North American shores

Dawg, if they could have rifles on their farms

Then I don't see why they knocked T.I. for tryin to bear arms



[Chorus]



[Saigon:]

Tell 'em wave at the artist, I feel like I'll make it regardless

Don't forget I'm the ex-con that made it the farthest (yup)

Until the day that I lay with the martyrs

Or until the day I'm parlayin, playin with my sons and my daughters (uh)

I'm a remain the smartest, hardest workin nigga in the business

Just Blaze, can I get a witness? {YESSIR!}

See that they probably get it if I come out and flop

Get dropped, go back to my block and get shot (pop)

As they puttin my body in that life-size Ziplock

Then you'll be sayin "Damn, Giddy died for this hip-hop"

Or maybe it'll tell you to get locked

To another 20 in the rock for them to give me my props

Whatever the case may be

You do a census on who is the sickest lyricist, they say me

And that's without a album out, y'all rated me

I drop one and I'm a bow out gracefully



[Chorus]



[Outro: Just Blaze]

Keep keep keep rising, whoa-ohh

Keep keep keep rising, whoa-OHH!

Keep keep keep rising, whoa-OHH!

Keep keep keep rising, whoa-ohh

Whoo! We on the radio (we on the radio!)

Yo turn up the radio! (we on the radio)

Yo we got one, now we got the game on lock!

[Radio changing stations]

Turn it up! C'monnnnn

We got on the radio
Vind dit lied op:
bol.com
amazon.com

Copyrights:

Auteur: ?

Componist: ?

Publisher: ?

Details:

Taal: Engels

Deel je mening

Dit formulier wordt beschermd door reCAPTCHA en de Google Privacy Policy en Servicevoorwaarden zijn daarbij van toepassing.

0 Reacties gevonden