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Текст песни Brotha Lynch Hung - Tried to Shoot

Brotha Lynch Hung - Tried to Shoot слова песни

I be havin` bad dreams about doin` bad thingsNo money, my momma is gone, it`s a sad thingAnd the devil is laughin, if there was such a thingYou couldn`t weigh my problems out with a human triple beamI`m all fucked up, you might find me in the dump truckGin in my cup, hundred and fifty on the roughI`m a tough act to follow, leave your chest hollowSee it ain`t that tough, heat that ass up with the raloAnd hit the road, explode niggas with old vendettasI talk alot of shit so my click pack berettas to rip back your leather The world is cold, you could find me inside the bottle at 15 years oldI was tired of all the arguin`, fussin`, and fightin`Ten years later I`m borrowin, adjusting the mic andTry`na make it through these hard times, tellin` my problemsBut who cares, everybody I know got `emI`m upstairs, starin` out the window drinkin O.EI know this bottle really love me, I love you tooYou be helpin` me through my problems, killin` my fearsAnd you understand when I break down you bring out the tearsAnd you give me heart, but I just can`t take itShit`s hella fucked up, bad luck, just can`t shake itHalf way to the grave, half way from birthTry`na wonder what my life is worthI think I`m cursed[Chorus] x2I put the gun to my head, tried to shootI think I`m better off dead, where`s my kids?Make sure they ain`t around, tell `em I love umTell `em bend down on the ground, plug ya earsWhat you hear ain`t nothin` but a cartoonA bad dream, your daddy, he comin` back soonIn another form, re-born, with some great expectationsI`ma miss you too, believe itGot dealt some bad punches, but I`ma roll with itGot served some bad lunches, so who can I trust?Got love and I don`t want it, who`s teachin` me hate?Got hate when I don`t need it, I believe in my faithDiagnosed manic depressive, only learned one lessonAnd that`s fuck it, forget it, and let it die like the rest of `emBattled with the best of `em, they can`t touch meThen shadowed out the rest of `em, you can`t fuck meMight as well go `head and let me murder myselfNiggas got hate for me anyway, take it, it`s hellAnd if I see you at the funeral, I`ma reach out for youThat one up in the corner, give his ass to the coronerHe just another foreigner, all in my mix Don`t have the slightest idea how I`m feelin `bout shitCuz I maintain my composure, never tellin` the planMy brain stained in dosia, I`m tellin` you man[Chorus] x1

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