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Текст песни Bushwick Bill - Times is Hard

Bushwick Bill - Times is Hard слова песни

[ Verse 1 ]Times that is hard as a 25 yearsAin`t got a dime and ain`t seen a chick in a yearI`m catching drama from my mama on downIt`s rough as fuck, but homie, I`m staying downNow I have done everything from Everclear to sherman sticksI sold dope around townI`d stomp niggas downRolling through my hood like a superstarTurning corner after corner in my brand new carsThese hoes used to call me ballerBut that was `fore I lost my grip, now they barely even call aPlayer cause they know I`m brokeNo Rolex and no Benz, just spokes (shit)Now that I`m back to life, and that I`m back to realityGot one life which ain`t shit without a salaryI`m spitting game so y`all can feel meMan, I`ma make it out the ghetto if it kills meAnd Lil` Jay will make it realY`all know the deal[ Verse 2 ]Now if it wasn`t for moms I wouldn`t have no worldYou stood tall through it all, so you go, girlI know things ain`t all they used to beI had to slow my roll, see, trouble`s getting used to me I gots to make you a proud motherNo more crack slanging, I gots to be a proud brother And take control of my destinyI can`t let these streets get the best of meIt`s kinda rough starting over but it`s worth the painInstead of getting stuck with the same ol` sameStretched like a rubberband, busting flicksIn the pen for life with some off-brand tricksAin`t nobody knowin about the pain you feelI`ma change my life, mama, that`s on the real I pray to God He make you feel meMan, I`ma make it out the ghetto if it kill meAnd mama, that`s real[ Verse 3 ]No more playing mack daddy for you skeezersI got one lover, I love her, so I`ma please herAnd leave you tramps aloneSince I`m getting shit straight, I`m starting at homeNow which one of y`all was down and didn`t clown when I was sleeping on the flo`My real girl, that`s who, that`s why I love her soGot two sons and no daughtersI`m barely feeding both of my kids but I still gots to be a father That I used to want pops to beThis ain`t no dis to ya, pops, cause you`re still my gI`m on a long road to nowhere if I don`t changeLife with no crime on my mind feels strangeWorking like a motherfucker, slick like a Benz seatBacking off my old hustle, trying to make these ends meetI pray to God he make you feel meMan, I`ma make it out the ghetto if it kills me And niggas, that`s real

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