Lyrics:
start life from scratch, I wouldn't change shit
Same gun, same clip, same dumb bitch
All Out, Harlem World, same old clique
Same old studio,
came from
My story, your story ain't the same one
The challenges, we've faced
The lies, destruction
May have its similarities
But still it's
weight beams
Young boys you blame em
Tryna get their gear up
Want cake by the layers
And ain't trying to hear you
Old folks they bore em
With them old ass
born in the south on the old dirt road, with R-A-W stitched on my clothes.
I got my boots at 5 years old, started dancin' by the mud, so the story's told
To the Crocodile River in the south in 1926
Minister Piet Grobler got the borders fixed
Uncle Paul
You started it all
Long ago in the days of the old Transvaal
It
Bill Thaxton was an ex-ranger
One of the bravest by far
It's said that old Bill was the fastest man ever
To pin on a ranger's star
Stories about him
keep deferring action,
Only surviving by the skin of our teeth.
We're sick of the same old story,
Tonight the motionless must vacate,
So we can
to the grade in the evening
They take the chill away fine.
Cut the telephone line and the story's the same.
There's a worn red chair by the window
That we found
by the handle on the top
I'd slide it out of the back of his station wagon
Lug it down the bank with my arm draggin'
And I could hardly wait for him
Oh the fools
Who adore you
We're never the same once we cried in the rain over you
Same old story
And if wishing's a crime then I guess they were
the history of music
By night, just to pay for that shit, you'd dance
To get your pants was a mission impossible
We were both the same age but I
Suppose
color, clarity, and cut. By applying their made up standards to their new find, they could sell sh*tty Soviet diamonds for the same amount as their bigger
alone- all by myself
And I say- I'm sorry
I'm so sorry for your life
Different look, same old story
Same old Story of Your Life
The Story of Your Life
I
to the south, it's all the same.
Porque estamos peleamos, necesitamos unirlos
No matter where you from, no matter what you claim.
(Verse 2 = El Chino)
Studio is
an immigrant family
Middle class salaries
On 47th Street by the Stones
Where they move white out the house same block as Obama's home
Uh, born alone, die
Bill Thaxton was an ex ranger
One of the bravest by far
It's said that old Bill was
The fastest man ever
To pin on a ranger's star
Stories about him
a piece
My mind is never at ease
Easily taken and blown by the slightest breeze
Looking up north, looking out west
Roaming down south and i cleared the east
on the cell phone
My old girl got a new man but she miss me when I sing songs
She stressed out I am out now
She can't text she can't call
We ain't same y'all
gotten so cold
He ain't the same old
Lover you used to know.
He's in a nose dive
Barely half alive
And just about to let go.
Someone's been telling
the back
but some how i made it out of that death trap
by tellin ghetto stories they called it gangsta rap
my legend is the one that got away
while my
the back
but some how i made it out of that death trap
by tellin ghetto stories they called it gangsta rap
my legend is the one that got away
while my
just rewrite it, put your heart inside it
Or let the same damn story come back again
Remember, you were six years old
Running around, with a future
innocence and savings for a story
But hadn't bargained for that case of stinging pee
Further south they happened upon Frankston
On word of a start with
shit, fuck,
you die for this shit, put yo number up,
everytime you see that dirty south u noe we commin
up, same old niggaz mayne dont even noe us,
imma
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