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Текст песни Ludacris f Eightball and MJG, Carl Thoma - Hard Times

Ludacris f Eightball and MJG, Carl Thoma - Hard Times слова песни

[Chorus: Carl Thomas]I`m tryin to make it through these hard times (hard, times)I`m tryin to make it through these hard timesI`m tryin to make it through these hard times (hard, times)I`m tryin to make it through these hard timesI`m tryin to make it through these hard times (hard, times)I`m tryin to make it through these hard timesI`m tryin to make it through these hard times (hard, times)Hard times (hard), hard times (hard)[Verse One: Ludacris]You never know how much you miss a person, until they goneLike to hear it? Hear it go, I`m rehearsing, gotta sing my songI know I`ve done some wrong, but I can`t get rightCause life is like a big fightI`m stickin-and-movin, tryin to get my shit rightMy family`s been houndin me, friends they done turned against meKinda like they hearts was on a full tank, but now they emptyAnd they say I`ve changed, but like twins I`m just the sameIt`s because of my job, mo` money mo` prob in this dirty gameThis industry FUCKED UPThat`s right I said it, and it`s fake as everKeep real niggaz around me, stay "Space Age 4 Eva"Po-ppa never went and jumped the broom, never got that one degreeBut if you looked down from heaven, you`d still be proud of meYour son was DUI, but my momma made it byI didn`t shed no tears when you left mebut the rest of the family criedTrials and tribulations, ruined my concentrationLosin my patience, hard times for goodness sake`n[Chorus][Verse Two: Eightball]As this Valium slowly starts to kick inThem subconcious, subliminal thoughts, start tickinThis whole world around me, diseased, and crumblinBabies doin dope cause daddy did it right in front of themEverybody wanna blame music for they bad kidsSittin up in the court talkin `bout Eminem made me do what I didMy own hard times rolled in like the fogTry to think of others, but I can`t get past my own thoughtsMy momma, in 1967, pickin cottonWhile other blacks was gettin liberated, boycottinMy old man was a player, ain`t no hidin thatHe started tootin then he graduated to smokin crackI never saw him, never needed to see that muh`fuckerHe left me and my mother stuck down here in this fuckin gutterI tattoed it on my arm so I can`t forget itIt`s in my mind and my heart so I`m forever with it[Chorus][Verse Three: MJG]A drum machine, the old fo`-track, and a pack of new tapesIn the middle of, 1988, in a corner cafeWe made beats, and hung with old heads, and stayed out late at nightDo talent shows, fo`-way split the dough, that was our way of lifeMy momma stayed, home full time so she could raise meKnowin without a, household father, things could get crazySometimes I listened, sometimes I thought I knew it allBut nevertheless, momma was with me through it allI graduated out of nothin, not out of school, it was like12, 13, 14 years I`m thinkin coolI might as well, be focusin on me tryin to get paidUsin these rhymes I`ve been writin since in the 7th gradeOur team played, and had physical sex with minimum wageIt was just like a piece of pussyIt fucked me long as I stayedBut still I prayed, Lord I`m tryin now please help me out the waterIt can`t get no harderHelp me to get back up and get my shit tomorrow[Chorus] - 2X

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Ludacris f Eightball and MJG, Carl Thoma - Hard Times
3 часа назад 209 (не задано)

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