Sing For The Moment: how we can come from practically nothin'
To bein' able to have any fuckin' thing that we wanted
It's why we sing for these kids that don't have a thing
Except for a dream and a fucking rap magazine
Who post pinup pictures on their walls all day long
Idolise their favourite rappers and know all they songs
Or for anyone who's ever been through shit in they lives
So they sit and they cry at night, wishing they die
Till they throw on a rap record, and they sit and they vibe
We're nothing to you, but we're the fuckin' shit in their eyes
That's why we sieze the moment, and try to freeze it and own it
Squeeze it and hold it, 'cos we consider these minutes golden
And maybe they'll admit it when we're gone
Just let our spirits live on, through out lyrics that you hear in our songs
And we can
Beautiful:
I don’t need no fucking man servant, Trying to follow me around and wipe my ass
Laugh at every single joke I crack, and half of them ain’t even funny like
“Haa! Marshall you’re so funny man
you should be a comedian god damn”
Unfortunately I am, I just hide behind the tears of a clown
Like Toy Soldiers:
We still have soldiers that's on the front line
That's willing to die for us as soon as we give the orders
Never to extort us, strictly to show they support us
We'll maybe shout 'em out in a rap or up in a chorus
To show them we love 'em back and let 'em know how important it is
To have Runyan Avenue, soldiers up in our corners
Their loyalty to us is worth more than any award isBut I ain't tryna have none of my people hurt and murdered
It ain't worth it, I can't think of a perfecter way to word it
Then to just say that I love ya'll too much to see the verdict
I'll walk away from it all before I let it go any further
But don't get it twisted, it's not a plea that I'm coppin'
I'm just willin' to be the bigger man
If ya'll can quit poppin' off at the jaws, well then I can
Cause frankly I'm sick of talkin'
I'm not gonna let someone else's coffin rest on my conscience cause
this 3 quotes made me Keep Ya Head Up