Tomorrow
Quelle: Spotify
Chorus:
I had to pack up and go
Somethin’ is changin’, I know
What is this thing that I wrote
Made me afraid of tomorrow?
Paid all the dues that I owe
I’d pawn the jewels that I own
But I ain’t got none of those
Least I won’t go it alone—
My wife, my pen, and my poem…
I got my own tomorrow
You got to own tomorrow
We had to beg and borrow
To make our own tomorrow
Will we get home tomorrow?
Verse 1:
Welcome to Broakland, Grand is back!
A hundred and eighty degrees from your standard rap
Maybe MCs oughta run like candlewax
You gotta stay on your toes so you can’t relax
They might cut your mic off with your hand attached!
(They will!)
I keep my head up, feet down
Still tryin’ to score
When I miss then I go for the rebound
B-Town recycles! We found it’s vital
When it comes to takin’ over, hey
We wrote the Bible!
But now is the hour for survival
War’s not the answer—Grip put a flower in your rifle
G to the R! If I leave in a car
Then it’s borrowed. Don’t confuse me with a star
You won’t see our crib on TV
My whole fam in Broakland!
Talk’s cheap, but it isn’t for free
So you can buy the CD for a minimal fee!
That’s right! Listen to me, ‘cuz the tide is turnin’!
No, I haven’t blown up, but the fire’s burnin’!
I’m a furnace! Rhyme with a violent purpose—
To destroy every MC whose style is worthless—
But I got stage-fright and now I’m too nervous
“Oh, word? I can’t keep it that real, I’d get tired!”
And I feel like my License to Ill is expired
And then when you went to renew, they said
“Someone’s gotta wild out, but it wasn’t meant to be you
Just go to work
‘Cuz on the first the rent’ll be due”
And that’s why…
(Chorus)
Verse 2:
I worked all week to earn my keep
So that I could rest easy under my sheets
But instead I get headaches
Anxieties made me a head-case
Back pain gave me a neck brace
Broakland is the best place—
Scrape by or get scraped
Off of the concrete the next day
Bills to pay and they’re addin’ up
‘Cuz I spent what I had this month
And still owed a bunch
Plus, the banks ain’t loanin’ much
Three bucks, man! Where can I go to lunch?
Hold it up when I get there. Prone to bug
Known to punch time-clocks like the Golden Gloves
Oh, it must be I’m overworked. Go berserk!
Lord help me, though I don’t go to church
It’s only Wednesday…you don’t know how much that hurts!
I gotta get over the hump like a hunchback’s shirt!
Another day, another dollar short
Went to the dollar store ‘cuz I needed milk, so I bought a quart
But it spilled when I tried to pour mine’s…
Life is beautiful, but it can cut like rose vines
Head or gut? (What?!)
Motherf----r, it’s time!
So let’s go!
(Chorus)
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