Sorrow hearted
(Scars and strife)
(verse #1)
Living my life amongst battle scars and strife,
Illegally paid so forget the stars and stripes,
Just let me have my women and the occasional bar fight,
A bag of “get me right” and a bottle of Henny on ice,
It’s just enough to keep me chasing the spot light,
It’s just enough to keep them chasing my car lights,
Cop lights don’t mix well when you’re going through hard times,
So push the pedal to the metal and ignore the stop signs,
It’s a one way street when you’re riding with criminals,
A hundred miles per hour, as you glance out the windows,
Life flashes by until it becomes subliminal,
All of a sudden, it doesn’t seem so critical,
It’s more habitual - and less intentional,
It’s more substantial for the courts judicial,
But not beneficial - to ones residuals,
After a while, a life of crime becomes despicable.
(verse #2)
I got my mind on money as if money could touch you,
A hundred dollar bills if you want me to come through,
Her response was enough to subdue,
She ended all of her texts with the words I love you,
The type of chick – you would give a hug to,
She’s not the type of girl – you would be a thug to,
A beautiful babe that I continue to run to,
In my book she’s just a page and I continue to thumb through,
Next, I got this shorty on my mind,
How much will it take to be the apple in your eye,
I don’t want you forever so lets make it this one time,
We can cuddle under bubbles and drink a bottle of wine,
I don’t mean to cause trouble or cross over the line,
I’m saying, you looking good from the shoulders to your thighs,
I’m saying, if I were single I would make you all mine,
But I can’t have you and be married to crime.
(verse #3)
I’m out for Benjamin’s to represent me,
But these Benjamin’s are going to get me caught evidently,
It’s elementary they do the math at the precinct,
It’ll all add up like 22 plus 3,
25 years I could get locked for a felony,
Still addicted to poison, but we know it as nicotine,
Watch my back in the shower, too much gang activity,
Might catch a shank in the side, they’ll watch me die profoundly,
But the thoughts of prison wont stop me from holding it down,
Cause I see more heads than a concert hosted by Chris Brown,
Back then I was nothing now I’m holding the crown,
The feds have my alias and my picture perfect frown,
They know who to suspect when something happens in town,
It’s either me or someone in my crew knows who and how,
But they wont get the schematics by tracking with them blood hounds,
It’s the interrogation room that cracks a thug now.
