The Long Way Home

Krept & Konan, Derrick Morgan

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Derrick Morgan

Derrick Morgan (born 27 March 1940, Mocho, Clarendon, Jamaica) is a musical artist popular in the 1960s and 1970s. He worked with Desmond Dekker, Bob Marley, and Jimmy Cliff in the rhythm and blues and ska genres, and he also performed rocksteady and skinhead reggae. more »


Year:
2015
7:40
508 
#14

 The easy, fast & fun way to learn how to sing: 30DaySinger.com

Bottles, bottles, pour it all
Please pour these bottles, bottles for our heavy hearts
Our heavy hearts
My love runs so deep, sit here and pray to God
'Cause we just did it all and the shit's too different
When I put on a show, now they wanna listen
I don't know, on my life
I don't know, on my life
They say, nothing was gained, everything lost all out of heartache
But what I know, look at me now, begging for heartbreak
I don't know, on my life
I don't know, on my life

Yo, nigga check the stacks, check the results
We in your top five by default
I swear to God we're putting UK rap on
Playlists on national radio with a trap song
Respect the fact me and Kone opening some doors
You think they would have put a song like that on there before?
Nah, well I guess we the game changers
A lot of press on this star, we're the game's favourites
My nigga hit me, said that he was in a dark place
But our achievements inspired him, and he can't wait
To be something and chase his dream for real
Just picked my award up in front of Pharrell
Staples Center in L.A., feeling kind of major
Staples in a box, like I'm filing papers
Gonna get a mortgage off of rap, I sad that I'd do it
Now that's what the f*ck I call house music
Taking pictures of this money, I'm a pick-pocket
Whip's got a fresh plate, boy I'm dish washing
Young niggas doing well, man that shit ain't often
A black nigga that balled, man that shit ain't common
They thought I'd be a typical black nigga
Making notes out of keys like a bad singer
It could have ended in a grave, so I show my blessings
Or in the can, but that's so depressing
A few of your ratings are still overdue
You still don't hear us? Then we'll grow on you
'Cause we the ones they used to stereotype
Now they play us on radio, we the stereo type
Yeah, nothing better than a proud mum
How man rappers did we outrun?
Bet they didn't think a BET would be the outcome
Wiz Khalifa told us he wants to get on the album
Yeah, shit's so surreal
Labels in the States tryna close a deal
New kids on the block, we the new wave
This good music got me two chains
I say I'm blessed but they're saying that I'm lucky
Selling fast food, I could have ended up a junkie
Look at all the people that we won over
Sex on the couch thinking that I've come so far
Could have chose to sell the green in the blocks fam
And be a green icon, that's a Whatsapp
But nah, nigga I'm just tryna live
All these awards, all that's missing is a BRIT
(Let me, let me break it down)
Money, cars and fame, what you are, a name
People think, start to change
I can try hide it, try fight it
No point, things just aren't the same
The hood just ain't the same
Crime rise, gun wars, bang bang
Might run up on you real quick
Pull it out, won't get a second chance, this ain't a game
Been there, done that, wore the T-shirt
Got the marks, scars from the wars
Tryna gain a name, make a way
Take the game, then charge through the doors
I'ma keep going, keep flowing
Keep showing 'til my arse on the Forbes
From in the hood, little crooks, to Guinness Books
Please start the applause
Please clap for me
I'm the truth, I should work in a factory
MTV lists, number one, we had to be
A mortgage deposit is what they're taxing me
Yeah, I earned this living
Move like I'm Brazilian, German whipping
When it comes to winning awards, you're my son
Because that's over 7-1
It's more than money, this material goals
I'm aware it ain't about these clothes
And that's real, I just hope that you remember me
So I'ma get my foot in the door and leave a legacy

I remember sitting in my classroom
Listening to Wiley and Dizzee Rascal
Breaking all the class rules
Now we've got more trophies than Arsenal
About a thousand on the shoes
Mummy's birthday, I put her on a cruise
Tell me what I've gotta prove
My cousin phoned me, said she saw us on the news
I was really in the street, you can go and phone much
Squeezed the gun off in the car, nearly shot my own foot
Now I'm sitting here thinking 'bout plaques and a Grammy
From me and Bounce testing out the MAC in the alley
How me made it this far's still a mystery
Dropped the mixtape and made history
Tryna do way more than they expect
Heard the top gets lonely, thank God I got Krept
They say it's our time and I don't wanna be late
I think too much cause I just wanna be great
Girls in the hotel and they don't wanna behave (behave!)
What they gonna say?
First headline show sold out in a day
I pray the fame will never change us
Had the whole arena looking like Wrestlemania
Lights everywhere
This summer, yeah we've been on flights everywhere
Egypt to L.A
Then Amsterdam, smoking weed on the stage
All the things we had to overcome
So I treat every chance like it's my only one
So f*ck the fake love and the pretenders
"Don't Waste My Time" got on Eastenders
What can they tell me?
Everywhere I go they want a selfie
I guess that's how it is when you're popular
But watch your back cause snakes ain't only on the Nokia
Sug and Travs got daughter's now
And I'm doing all that shit we used to talk about
When I was young I always dreamed that I would be this
I wish my dad was alive so he could see this

Yeah, I'ma take the long way home
I'ma take the long way home
I'ma take the long way so I can hear the beat play
I'ma take the long way home
I'ma take the long way home
I'ma take the long way just to hear the beat play
I'ma take the long way home
I'ma take the long way home
I'ma take the long way, long way

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Written by: CASYO JOHNSON, KARL WILSON, AMISH PATEL, VANIA KHALEH-PARI, FATEH MOHAMMED RAHMAN

Lyrics © BMG Rights Management, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.

Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind

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