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

Son


Interface


Niveau de difficulté


Accent



langue de l'interface

fr

Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
Politique de cookies   |   Soutien   |   FAQ
1
s'inscrire / se connecter
Lyrkit

faire un don

5$

Lyrkit

faire un don

10$

Lyrkit

faire un don

20$

Lyrkit

Et/Ou soutenez-moi sur les réseaux sociaux. réseaux:


Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
Slaughterhouse

Struggle

 

Struggle

(album: House Rules - 2014)


[Intro Crooked I:]
Lord!

[Verse 1 Crooked I:]
I'm having rob-a-nigga thoughts, like the Horseshoe
Got all the tools in my box
I'm a nut, missing a corkscrew
Sitting on my porch thinking this rapping ain't gon' happen
Cause faggots repping that, like I'm the wrong nigga to pass the torch to
Momma stressing cause her rent's due
Can't borrow money from none of the homies, them niggas in a pitch, too
My co-connect, he got pinched, too
Andy Dufresne escaping Shawshank, the shit I been through (Lord!)
Refridgerator empty, inner anger in me simply waiting and incubating
For if a hater tempt me, I'mma disintegrate him quickly
Spray the 3-80 'till bullets penetrate his kidney
Sometimes I just wanna fall asleep in the tub
Loaded on drugs like I was imitating Whitney
Talk to god, just pray that he forgive me in sleep (Rest!)
Depressed, I been stressed
And weighted the world on my chest, like I'm bench-pressing a planet I get dressed
On a one man mission hopped in my bucket with a bad transmission
My hands itching
Yeah I'm past bitching and complaining
And ain't trying to land in nobody's damn prison
But I gotta take a chance Man listen
My pops was a magician, like David Blaine mixed with a mime
He disappeared, didn't say a thing
Nigga bounced out, out to [?] in Kansas
Now I gotta find out where this fuck nigga pants is
Man of the house, throw on his trousers
Nothing like a child in them pedophile browsers
But still a child lost his innocence 'n a frown live where the smile did
Snatch purses and rap verses I was a wild kid
Fast forward to this gun in your face
Mouth covered in tape
I want what's in your safe
I want you to resist
So I can take all my anger out on somebody who ain't got nothing to do with this shit
Lord!

[Hook Crooked I:]
You don't know about the struggles in this bitch
Late at night, stomach growling
While you cuddle with your bitch
And they tell me I would even go through troubles if I'm rich
But I rather have something
Cause having nothing is a bitch (Lord!)

[Bridge Crooked I:]
La La La La La
You don't know about the struggles in this bitch (Lord!)
La La La La La
You don't know about the struggles in this bitch (Lord!)

[Verse 2 Crooked I:]
God bless the child that got his own, let's see
I ain't got nothing I wonder will God bless me
I ain't saying being rich 'll make me stress free
but I'd rather see what that do while I'm on my jet skis
(Yeah right, I'm hungry e'ry night, and I never smile, got my poker face air tight)
Down on my knees accidentally using profanity
I can't even say a prayer right,
I just want a pair o' nikes
I just wanna wear a white tea and keep my hair tight
I just want a fair fight
I just want a fair life
Is that too much to ask for?
Tell me is that too much to ask for?

[Hook]

fait

Avez-vous ajouté tous les mots inconnus de cette chanson ?