Who Love You More off the "Charity Starts At Home" album
No explanation necessary for the way he bodied this song.......
Verse 2 was my favorite on this track and one of the realest verses as of lately to catch my attention:
“My cousin hit me up and said he had to post bail again
‘Cuz my brother back in jail again
Back in that slave ship ‘cuz he tried to sell again
And all that’s going through my mind is ‘how the f*ck am I failing him?’
These young’ns want all of the spoils but none of the toils
Got me climbing the walls
Too good to press olives but’ll be the first squeaky wheel asking for oil
I’ve been at it for 10 years, ‘what the f*ck is you on?’
Had me frustrated like, ‘what the f*ck do you want?’
He come to me for answers but I don’t know what to tell ‘em
Part bad parenting, part youthful rebellion
He wanna buy a dream but I don’t know what to sell him, shit
They say the streets turn n*ggas into sinners
But them jail cells be turning n*ggas into dinner
So they sing in the summer, be home by the winter
Interrogation room be turning n*ggas into tenors
And he’s no singer, but put him on the block, he got that perfect pitch
I just want him to understand that you work for this
You can win or you lose
But it’s either me or the streets and brother you gotta choose
Love”
“My cousin hit me up and said he had to post bail again
‘Cuz my brother back in jail again
Back in that slave ship ‘cuz he tried to sell again
And all that’s going through my mind is ‘how the f*ck am I failing him?’
These young’ns want all of the spoils but none of the toils
Got me climbing the walls
Too good to press olives but’ll be the first squeaky wheel asking for oil
I’ve been at it for 10 years, ‘what the f*ck is you on?’
Had me frustrated like, ‘what the f*ck do you want?’
He come to me for answers but I don’t know what to tell ‘em
Part bad parenting, part youthful rebellion
He wanna buy a dream but I don’t know what to sell him, shit
They say the streets turn n*ggas into sinners
But them jail cells be turning n*ggas into dinner
So they sing in the summer, be home by the winter
Interrogation room be turning n*ggas into tenors
And he’s no singer, but put him on the block, he got that perfect pitch
I just want him to understand that you work for this
You can win or you lose
But it’s either me or the streets and brother you gotta choose
Love”
Cd was slept on heavy
ReplyDelete