Tytuł: This Goes Out

• Wykonawca: Jagged Edge
• Wyświetleń: 411

This goes out to all them hustlers
  Everybody out there making them ends meet
  I ain't mad at'cha
  JE y'all, this goes out to everybody
  
  This goes out to you, this goes out to you
  (This goes out)
  This goes out to you, this goes out to you
  (I'm telling you this goes out)
  This goes out to you, this goes out to you
  (This goes out, hey)
  This goes out to you, this goes out to you
  (Oh, oh, oh, oh)
  
  Some people sleep five to a bed
  Three at the feet, two at the top
  So I can't really talk about how they should live
  When I know in my heart if it came down to it
  I'd be getting down the same as them
  See Lord, tryna hustle must be something heaven sent
  A lot of rent wouldn't be made without this trade
  That we call hustlin'
  
  This goes out to the cats on the corner
  Stressin' and strugglin' just to get a dollar
  I ain't mad at'cha, gotta do something
  Hold your head up cause they can't touch you
  This goes out to the girls in the streets
  Like going all out just so their kids can eat
  Like I ain't mad at'cha, gotta do something
  Hold your head up cause they can't touch you
  This goes out...
  
  I used to be half between
  Going all out and doings things that I know just wasn't right
  And now I'm looking back
  And I think just do it or never did something
  But I can tell you that
  I'd probably take a bullet in my head than leave my family unfed
  And that's the way it is
  This goes out to my homies, yeah
  
  This goes out to the cats on the corner
  Stressin' and strugglin' just to get a dollar
  I ain't mad at'cha, gotta do something
  Hold your head up cause they can't touch you
  This goes out to the girls in the streets
  Like going all out just so their kids can eat
  Like I ain't mad at'cha, gotta do something
  Hold your head up cause they can't touch you
  This goes out...
  
  [Rap]
  Uh, uh, uh
  Ay yo I welcome the struggle
  Like I welcome the hustle
  Find the right one, take it and bubble
  That's on the muscle
  I ain't giving in, I'm trying to win
  And if I gotta get my hands a little dirty
  Then I'm sorry for sin
  But the Fed don't understand ain't bred
  So brothers gotta learn to bake to make bread
  Chicks use their ass and shake to make breat
  But I understand shorty keep them kids fed
  
  This goes out to my whole 5-5-81 click
  I often reminisce when we just dreamed of this
  Rich cars, fine homes, girls with nice toes
  Dime pieces standing in line to show us their thongs
  Went from riding six deep in a little ass jeep
  To Cadillac trucks and Benzes, prowling the streets
  We gon' ball till we fall
  Cause we fadin' em all
  Put your glasses in the air, this goes out to y'all
  
  This goes out to the cats on the corner
  Stressin' and strugglin' just to get a dollar
  I ain't mad at'cha, gotta do something
  Hold your head up cause they can't touch you
  This goes out to the girls in the streets
  Like going all out just so their kids can eat
  Like I ain't mad at'cha, gotta do something
  Hold your head up cause they can't touch you
  This goes out...
  
  My homies, you can't touch me
  If you don't really know
  This goes out to my homies
  You can't touch me
  If you don't really know
  This goes out to my homies
  You can't touch me
  If you don't really know
  This goes out to my homies
  You can't touch me
  If you don't really know