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Coolio

Can-O-Corn

  rap  hip-hop  hip hop  90s  west coast rap
393,00 прямо сейчас

Текст песни Coolio - Can-O-Corn

Coolio - Can-O-Corn слова песни

Back in the days when I was a young buckStuck like a truck gettin shit outta luckTimes was rough and I didn`t have a planI was barely on the edge of my life as a manIt`s really fucked up when there`s dope in the cribNo food in the kitchen for the motherfuckin kidsThat`s why a young nigga learned how to steal,seeShopliftin laid me a whole lotta mealsBut I remember days when the cupboard was bare andLife was unfair but who the fuck cares?I still hear Momma,what she used to tell meThat you don`t get shit in this life for freeAnd even if I never ever make it to the mountain topFuck it!I fight for my hip-hopNot everybody can relate to what I been throughEven though some front and they try to pretend toKnow about the life of a kid and the strifeWhere he has to live in the shadow of a base-pipeGood goes to bad,bad goes to worseAnd pretty soon he`s stealin from his own Momma`s purseSo clean out ya ears and open up your eyesI reach out to touch but somebody moved the skyMy stomach is growlin,word is bornCos all I had for dinner was a can-o-cornBRIDGEA can-o-corn,a can-o-cornAll I had for dinner was a can-o-cornA can-o-corn,a can-o-cornBefore I went to school I had a can-o-cornA can-o-corn,a can-o-cornI tried to get full off a can-o-cornA can-o-corn,a can-o-cornThat`s all the fuck that we had in the kitchenA few years later,I pledge a legions to the setI`m growin up but I ain`t grown yetIt`s funny how the strain in a life filled with painCan sometimes leave a bitch stained on the brainI`m sittin in the restaurant,guardin my food like a eaglePickin up scraps like a seagullWaitin on the people at the next table to leave a tipSo I can put it in my pocketPhoney Easter Bunny,Santa Claus and the storkWe was poor as fuck so we ate a lot of porkAnd it ain`t no motherfuckin way no howWhen it come up I let you bring me downSo I stick to the boots and I`m down with a MAAD groupOf gangstas and hoodlums,but you can call em `scroops`Give me liberty or give me deathCos a man without pride ain`t got shit left,huhAnd now that I`m older with kids of my own I put me in the pot where it used to be a boneGet`cha self together,word is bornCos a man can`t live on a can-o-corn

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