Lyric Prodigal Son
Cuz growin up I was never the logical one
packed my shit and left home like the prodigal son
with a bottle of jack and my shotgun strapped
I went looking for fame and yo I ve never been back
filled with spite staying high as a kite
I was dealin and stealin everything in sight
pool hustling trying to make that green
I ve been ramblin and gamblin since the age of 13
working like a bitch like a god damn tank
some disagree because me rents had bank
but all that s gold non t always glitter
so I ll take another puff from my one hitter
I m a slave tot he trade I m paid to rhyme
blow all my cash on cheap women and wine
cause money, money, money ain t shit to me
but I gotta make a lot just to be free
Please God Please I ll pay any cost
If you d just stop the world cause I wanna get off
there s too much hardship there s too much pain
there s too many motherfuckers tryin to get in my brain
I ve been to your mountains I ve been to your seaside
and everywhere I went somebody s wanted a free ride
but parasites can t fake the Rock
and any suckers that step in my way are getting shot
cause I hold key to my own success
and suckers that step shall be put to rest
yes, I hold the key to my own success
and suckers that step will catch a bullet in their chest,
so pass the buddha the funky tie hooter
and watch me rip because I m such a slick shooter.
not a generic dime a dozen M.C.
never was in a posse never wanted to be
now I ve neen walkin the earth since the beginning of ti
and won t leave till I ve received that 7th sign
all this talk their gonna drop the bomb,
but life keeps going on and on and on and on
the world s end don t worry me
and I m gonna get where I m going just hurry me
cause I m in no rush and I can t stand rushin
everything is slow motion like I m trippin on tussin
fussin with the girls they waste my time
thrashin and bashin going out of my mind
crucified by the critics everyday
cause I ain t really got that much to say
I m a slave to the trade I m paid to rhyme
I don t wear a watch and i don t keep time
I live my life just like the skipper
but only at night because I m a day tripper
twitchin-shakin like corky shootin smack
but still life goes on
visions of red shoot through my head
and I won t stop trippin till the day I m dead.
packed my shit and left home like the prodigal son
with a bottle of jack and my shotgun strapped
I went looking for fame and yo I ve never been back
filled with spite staying high as a kite
I was dealin and stealin everything in sight
pool hustling trying to make that green
I ve been ramblin and gamblin since the age of 13
working like a bitch like a god damn tank
some disagree because me rents had bank
but all that s gold non t always glitter
so I ll take another puff from my one hitter
I m a slave tot he trade I m paid to rhyme
blow all my cash on cheap women and wine
cause money, money, money ain t shit to me
but I gotta make a lot just to be free
Please God Please I ll pay any cost
If you d just stop the world cause I wanna get off
there s too much hardship there s too much pain
there s too many motherfuckers tryin to get in my brain
I ve been to your mountains I ve been to your seaside
and everywhere I went somebody s wanted a free ride
but parasites can t fake the Rock
and any suckers that step in my way are getting shot
cause I hold key to my own success
and suckers that step shall be put to rest
yes, I hold the key to my own success
and suckers that step will catch a bullet in their chest,
so pass the buddha the funky tie hooter
and watch me rip because I m such a slick shooter.
not a generic dime a dozen M.C.
never was in a posse never wanted to be
now I ve neen walkin the earth since the beginning of ti
and won t leave till I ve received that 7th sign
all this talk their gonna drop the bomb,
but life keeps going on and on and on and on
the world s end don t worry me
and I m gonna get where I m going just hurry me
cause I m in no rush and I can t stand rushin
everything is slow motion like I m trippin on tussin
fussin with the girls they waste my time
thrashin and bashin going out of my mind
crucified by the critics everyday
cause I ain t really got that much to say
I m a slave to the trade I m paid to rhyme
I don t wear a watch and i don t keep time
I live my life just like the skipper
but only at night because I m a day tripper
twitchin-shakin like corky shootin smack
but still life goes on
visions of red shoot through my head
and I won t stop trippin till the day I m dead.
