Chorus I had to pack up and go Somethin is changin, I know What is this thing that I wrote Made me afraid of tomorrow? Paid all the dues that I owe Id pawn the jewels that I own But I aint got none of those Least I wont go it alone My wife, my pen, and my poem I got my own tomorrow You got to own tomorrow We had to beg and borrow To make our own tomorrow Will we get home tomorrow? Verse 1 Welcome to Broakland, Grand is back! A hundred and eighty degrees from your standard rap Maybe MCs oughta run like candlewax You gotta stay on your toes so you cant relax They might cut your mic off with your hand attached! They will! I keep my head up, feet down Still tryin to score When I miss then I go for the rebound BTown recycles! We found its vital When it comes to takin over, hey We wrote the Bible! But now is the hour for survival Wars not the answerGrip put a flower in your rifle G to the R! If I leave in a car Then its borrowed. Dont confuse me with a star You wont see our crib on TV My whole fam in Broakland! Talks cheap, but it isnt for free So you can buy the CD for a minimal fee! Thats right! Listen to me, cuz the tide is turnin! No, I havent blown up, but the fires burnin! Im a furnace! Rhyme with a violent purpose To destroy every MC whose style is worthless But I got stagefright and now Im too nervous Oh, word? I cant keep it that real, Id get tired! And I feel like my License to Ill is expired And then when you went to renew, they said Someones gotta wild out, but it wasnt meant to be you Just go to work Cuz on the first the rentll be due And thats why Chorus Verse 2 I worked all week to earn my keep So that I could rest easy under my sheets But instead I get headaches Anxieties made me a headcase Back pain gave me a neck brace Broakland is the best place Scrape by or get scraped Off of the concrete the next day Bills to pay and theyre addin up Cuz I spent what I had this month And still owed a bunch Plus, the banks aint loanin much Three bucks, man! Where can I go to lunch? Hold it up when I get there. Prone to bug Known to punch timeclocks like the Golden Gloves Oh, it must be Im overworked. Go berserk! Lord help me, though I dont go to church Its only Wednesdayyou dont know how much that hurts! I gotta get over the hump like a hunchbacks shirt! Another day, another dollar short Went to the dollar store cuz I needed milk, so I bought a quart But it spilled when I tried to pour mines Life is beautiful, but it can cut like rose vines Head or gut? What?! Motherfr, its time! So lets go! Chorus
broakland, tomorrow, cuz, wednesdayyou, timeclocks