Your native language

عربي

Arabic

عربي

简体中文

Chinese

简体中文

Nederlands

Dutch

Nederlands

Français

French

Français

Deutsch

German

Deutsch

Italiano

Italian

Italiano

日本語

Japanese

日本語

한국인

Korean

한국인

Polski

Polish

Polski

Português

Portuguese

Português

Română

Romanian

Română

Русский

Russian

Русский

Español

Spanish

Español

Türk

Turkish

Türk

Українська

Ukrainian

Українська
User Avatar

Klang


Schnittstelle


Schwierigkeitsgrad


Akzent



Schnittstellensprache

de

Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
1
registrieren / anmelden
Lyrkit

spenden

5$

Lyrkit

spenden

10$

Lyrkit

spenden

20$

Lyrkit

Und/oder mich im sozialen Bereich unterstützen. Netzwerke:


Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
Black Milk

Codes And Cab Fare

 

Codes And Cab Fare

(Album: No Poison No Paradise - 2013)


[Black Milk:]
King without a care, frowning while the crown lay on they head
Crew recruiting Huey Newton, chair sitting hand holding spear
You was on a star chase, I was in a dark place
Looking for that glair
Looking for that light ahead
Days got dimmer staring down that dark tunnel
Hoping that you see a glimmer when them walls start crumbling
Calls stop coming in
People start mumbling
Stomach start rumbling
Need to hear applause and the fans call once again
Cab driver make a right, right up at the light
Destination: life
But stay here for a moment
I shouldn't be that long just keep the meter going
Keep the meter rolling while I go in for a few
Left a song for the little one, tell him Dad cares
Wish I could've stayed longer, gotta pay this cab fare
But um, you hoping better days'll come
Face to face with reality, no VH1
I sit back some, Watching my niggas that spark live
That's waiting for sunraise to penetrate dark clouds

[Black Thought:]
So I'm standin between vanity and foolish pride
On 7 Mile and Telegraph where the two collide
If I'm a man amongst kings and gods, who am I
For leaving so many crucified or coup d'etated
I'm from the D where everything is very do or die
My will to survive is what's separating you and I
My memoirs is revolutionary suicide
Now, who the realist nigga alive? Well you decide
This rusty.45 is never under-utilized
What goes down like a logo on a Puma Clyde? Homicide
Probably on these loudmouth bumbaclots
Thinking it's cool to walk around not supervised
But fuck supervision, cause you and you can get it
Lately I've been having premonitions of superstition
But if I stepped into the confessional, who would listen?
I need to change my ways, show me the new religion

Erledigt

Hast du alle unbekannten Wörter aus diesem Lied hinzugefügt?