Nástroje
Ensembles
Genres
Skladatelia
Umelci

Texty: Joe Budden. Padded Room. Don't Make Me.


[Verse 1]
Top down with the fresh cut
With A. Baker (Anita Baker) through the speakers, 'Best Of'
A crisp white tee, I'm still feelin' dressed up
Everythin' else healthy, don't get me messed up
A good pair of shades on, you gon always see me in disguise
Not for style, I don't want you to seein' my eyes
But for now, tell God hurry my plans
Cause I just had to bury my man
Us two was on some brother shit
But if I learned anythin', if you take life for granted it'll grant you some other shit
I know I can't be the only one troubled with
I talk 'bout hard shit like I discovered it
Thought I had enough of it, still won't cut a wrist
I just wrote the book, he published it
Simply read holdin' back the years
Cause when I strayed, it looked like he holdin' back some tears, he sayin'

[Hook]

[Verse 2]
Sometimes I feel like it's a ghost behind me
Nudge in my back, got the toast behind me
Clockin' my every move, takin' notes behind me
Crowd laughin', there must be a 'Roast' behind me
But the boy won't bend
Though the road to the riches is startin' to look like it don't end
I'm on 9-5 speedin', truly love it
No idea where I'm goin', that's the beauty of it
But still I'm here waitin' on a sign
Or a F.Y.I. to be notified, cause (WHY)
Do it matter what he got it store for niggas if they too broke to buy
I know I want heart, my back carryin' some tons ya'll
From the devil's bedroom on to his front yard
Pop up in the backseat and keys the chauffeur
Let em know before I hop out with him on my shoulder, I said

[Hook]

[Verse 3]
Wouldn't be smart to tangle wit ya guardian angel
Not when they got a strangle from every angle, head to ankles
Get mangled, so I don't got shit
My eyes everywhere, on my Stuart Scott shit
Tryin' to be fly every second that the clock tick
But there's a suicide bomber in the cockpit
See my intent is to be content
But that's contingent off fly hoe's usin' ??
Since mama concieved me
Me and dude been stuck in a melee
He's tellin' me I gotta ball like Beasely
But I could give a fuck how a nigga percieves me
So until God retrieves me
I'm followin' behind the nigga that misleads me
If need be, bounce from where he tryin' to keep me
But everytime I try he tells me that he needs me