Been Through The Storm (Album Version (Explicit)) - Album Version (Explicit) Lyrics
| Song | Been Through The Storm (Album Version (Explicit)) - Album Version (Explicit) |
| Artist | Busta Rhymes |
| Artist | Stevie Wonder |
| Album | The Big Bang |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作曲 : Trevor Smith & M. Clervoix & R. Smith & F Cavaliere & C. Moore & D. Vines | |
| 作词 : Cavaliere, Clervoix, Moore ... | |
| Been through the storm, through the cold and rain | |
| Every thing's still the same | |
| Can't control how | |
| I feelSometimes it's hard to keep it real | |
| You see the luxuries in life, with the fortune and fame | |
| Like them | |
| Cadillacs with sunroofs mayne | |
| So many ways to make a dollar | |
| Huh, sometimes | |
| I think about my father | |
| You see, my poppa was broke, and my momma was young | |
| Tryin' to blend in with them city folk | |
| Every day landlord knockin' down my do' | |
| Wonderin' where my next blessing is comin' from | |
| My momma and poppa, moved to the | |
| U.S. as Jamaicans | |
| Struggled to get visas and green cards through immigration | |
| Though my pop was po', stayed away from crime and malice | |
| Hard living gave him hard hands and callous | |
| As a young and peep how much they loved each other's space | |
| His hard hands rubbin, against the pretty skin of my mother's face | |
| Dig for treasure 'til his hands looked like hands of a junkie | |
| So coarse, slap a mule and take the life from a donkey | |
| On the other hand, mommy was the type to work two jobs | |
| Never enough money, that's why | |
| I got your whole crew robbed | |
| Got older, developed ways of grippin' the steel | |
| Barely home for me to see her, or get a good cooked meal | |
| Seek refuge in the alleged land of the free, lookin' | |
| Blendin' in with city folk, down in | |
| Flat bush | |
| BrooklynFeel a little of my pain, follow and sing to it | |
| Homey, I seen it all, if you ain't knowin' | |
| I been through it | |
| In other words | |
| IBeen through the storm, through the cold and rain | |
| Every thing's still the same | |
| Can't control how | |
| I feelSometimes it's hard to keep it real | |
| You see the luxuries in life, with the fortune and fame | |
| Like them | |
| Cadillacs with sunroofs mayne | |
| So many ways to make a dollar | |
| Huh, sometimes | |
| I think about my father | |
| You see, my poppa was broke, and my momma was young | |
| Tryin' to blend in with them city folk | |
| Every day landlord knockin' down my do' | |
| Wonderin' where my next blessing is comin' from | |
| Got a little older, late teens, me and my crew would huddle | |
| On the corner late nights, plottin' to escape struggle | |
| Nights got cold and still would hustle in the same place | |
| In front of | |
| Pancho Delis, now the freeze up on a nigga face1987 | |
| Reaganomics ever curious | |
| To visit other cities, out of town kick was serious | |
| Guyanese jeans bounce, put whatever slinger on | |
| Whatever slinger came back, quickly brought me right along | |
| Nigga ran away from home, doin' different wild shit | |
| Just to put a pair of | |
| Filas on, ' | |
| Didas onWreck is all for the good, gettin' into shit | |
| Like we innocent, actin' older than should | |
| Walk around broke in the hood, watchin all the rich niggaz | |
| These younger thugs who try to choke and try to get niggaz | |
| Thinkin' 'bout my mom and pop, while | |
| I'm monopolizin' | |
| To hell with just gettin' by and economizin' | |
| It's kinda hard bein' humble in the belly of struggle | |
| Doin' things that probably get you in trouble | |
| That's why we stay up on the block, gettin' money | |
| While we keepin' it safe in front of churchgoers keepin' the faith | |
| Mom and pop be worryin' for they son, despite they struggle | |
| And their honest livin', look and see just what | |
| I becomeA scavenger in brute pursuit to be happy, another young and | |
| That's wildin' across the line until somebody tryin' to cap me, oh shit | |
| I been through the storm, through the cold and rain | |
| Everything's still the same, can't control how | |
| I feelSometimes it's hard to keep it real | |
| Wooh, yeah, oh |
| zuo qu : Trevor Smith M. Clervoix R. Smith F Cavaliere C. Moore D. Vines | |
| zuo ci : Cavaliere, Clervoix, Moore ... | |
| Been through the storm, through the cold and rain | |
| Every thing' s still the same | |
| Can' t control how | |
| I feelSometimes it' s hard to keep it real | |
| You see the luxuries in life, with the fortune and fame | |
| Like them | |
| Cadillacs with sunroofs mayne | |
| So many ways to make a dollar | |
| Huh, sometimes | |
| I think about my father | |
| You see, my poppa was broke, and my momma was young | |
| Tryin' to blend in with them city folk | |
| Every day landlord knockin' down my do' | |
| Wonderin' where my next blessing is comin' from | |
| My momma and poppa, moved to the | |
| U. S. as Jamaicans | |
| Struggled to get visas and green cards through immigration | |
| Though my pop was po', stayed away from crime and malice | |
| Hard living gave him hard hands and callous | |
| As a young and peep how much they loved each other' s space | |
| His hard hands rubbin, against the pretty skin of my mother' s face | |
| Dig for treasure ' til his hands looked like hands of a junkie | |
| So coarse, slap a mule and take the life from a donkey | |
| On the other hand, mommy was the type to work two jobs | |
| Never enough money, that' s why | |
| I got your whole crew robbed | |
| Got older, developed ways of grippin' the steel | |
| Barely home for me to see her, or get a good cooked meal | |
| Seek refuge in the alleged land of the free, lookin' | |
| Blendin' in with city folk, down in | |
| Flat bush | |
| BrooklynFeel a little of my pain, follow and sing to it | |
| Homey, I seen it all, if you ain' t knowin' | |
| I been through it | |
| In other words | |
| IBeen through the storm, through the cold and rain | |
| Every thing' s still the same | |
| Can' t control how | |
| I feelSometimes it' s hard to keep it real | |
| You see the luxuries in life, with the fortune and fame | |
| Like them | |
| Cadillacs with sunroofs mayne | |
| So many ways to make a dollar | |
| Huh, sometimes | |
| I think about my father | |
| You see, my poppa was broke, and my momma was young | |
| Tryin' to blend in with them city folk | |
| Every day landlord knockin' down my do' | |
| Wonderin' where my next blessing is comin' from | |
| Got a little older, late teens, me and my crew would huddle | |
| On the corner late nights, plottin' to escape struggle | |
| Nights got cold and still would hustle in the same place | |
| In front of | |
| Pancho Delis, now the freeze up on a nigga face1987 | |
| Reaganomics ever curious | |
| To visit other cities, out of town kick was serious | |
| Guyanese jeans bounce, put whatever slinger on | |
| Whatever slinger came back, quickly brought me right along | |
| Nigga ran away from home, doin' different wild shit | |
| Just to put a pair of | |
| Filas on, ' | |
| Didas onWreck is all for the good, gettin' into shit | |
| Like we innocent, actin' older than should | |
| Walk around broke in the hood, watchin all the rich niggaz | |
| These younger thugs who try to choke and try to get niggaz | |
| Thinkin' ' bout my mom and pop, while | |
| I' m monopolizin' | |
| To hell with just gettin' by and economizin' | |
| It' s kinda hard bein' humble in the belly of struggle | |
| Doin' things that probably get you in trouble | |
| That' s why we stay up on the block, gettin' money | |
| While we keepin' it safe in front of churchgoers keepin' the faith | |
| Mom and pop be worryin' for they son, despite they struggle | |
| And their honest livin', look and see just what | |
| I becomeA scavenger in brute pursuit to be happy, another young and | |
| That' s wildin' across the line until somebody tryin' to cap me, oh shit | |
| I been through the storm, through the cold and rain | |
| Everything' s still the same, can' t control how | |
| I feelSometimes it' s hard to keep it real | |
| Wooh, yeah, oh |
| zuò qǔ : Trevor Smith M. Clervoix R. Smith F Cavaliere C. Moore D. Vines | |
| zuò cí : Cavaliere, Clervoix, Moore ... | |
| Been through the storm, through the cold and rain | |
| Every thing' s still the same | |
| Can' t control how | |
| I feelSometimes it' s hard to keep it real | |
| You see the luxuries in life, with the fortune and fame | |
| Like them | |
| Cadillacs with sunroofs mayne | |
| So many ways to make a dollar | |
| Huh, sometimes | |
| I think about my father | |
| You see, my poppa was broke, and my momma was young | |
| Tryin' to blend in with them city folk | |
| Every day landlord knockin' down my do' | |
| Wonderin' where my next blessing is comin' from | |
| My momma and poppa, moved to the | |
| U. S. as Jamaicans | |
| Struggled to get visas and green cards through immigration | |
| Though my pop was po', stayed away from crime and malice | |
| Hard living gave him hard hands and callous | |
| As a young and peep how much they loved each other' s space | |
| His hard hands rubbin, against the pretty skin of my mother' s face | |
| Dig for treasure ' til his hands looked like hands of a junkie | |
| So coarse, slap a mule and take the life from a donkey | |
| On the other hand, mommy was the type to work two jobs | |
| Never enough money, that' s why | |
| I got your whole crew robbed | |
| Got older, developed ways of grippin' the steel | |
| Barely home for me to see her, or get a good cooked meal | |
| Seek refuge in the alleged land of the free, lookin' | |
| Blendin' in with city folk, down in | |
| Flat bush | |
| BrooklynFeel a little of my pain, follow and sing to it | |
| Homey, I seen it all, if you ain' t knowin' | |
| I been through it | |
| In other words | |
| IBeen through the storm, through the cold and rain | |
| Every thing' s still the same | |
| Can' t control how | |
| I feelSometimes it' s hard to keep it real | |
| You see the luxuries in life, with the fortune and fame | |
| Like them | |
| Cadillacs with sunroofs mayne | |
| So many ways to make a dollar | |
| Huh, sometimes | |
| I think about my father | |
| You see, my poppa was broke, and my momma was young | |
| Tryin' to blend in with them city folk | |
| Every day landlord knockin' down my do' | |
| Wonderin' where my next blessing is comin' from | |
| Got a little older, late teens, me and my crew would huddle | |
| On the corner late nights, plottin' to escape struggle | |
| Nights got cold and still would hustle in the same place | |
| In front of | |
| Pancho Delis, now the freeze up on a nigga face1987 | |
| Reaganomics ever curious | |
| To visit other cities, out of town kick was serious | |
| Guyanese jeans bounce, put whatever slinger on | |
| Whatever slinger came back, quickly brought me right along | |
| Nigga ran away from home, doin' different wild shit | |
| Just to put a pair of | |
| Filas on, ' | |
| Didas onWreck is all for the good, gettin' into shit | |
| Like we innocent, actin' older than should | |
| Walk around broke in the hood, watchin all the rich niggaz | |
| These younger thugs who try to choke and try to get niggaz | |
| Thinkin' ' bout my mom and pop, while | |
| I' m monopolizin' | |
| To hell with just gettin' by and economizin' | |
| It' s kinda hard bein' humble in the belly of struggle | |
| Doin' things that probably get you in trouble | |
| That' s why we stay up on the block, gettin' money | |
| While we keepin' it safe in front of churchgoers keepin' the faith | |
| Mom and pop be worryin' for they son, despite they struggle | |
| And their honest livin', look and see just what | |
| I becomeA scavenger in brute pursuit to be happy, another young and | |
| That' s wildin' across the line until somebody tryin' to cap me, oh shit | |
| I been through the storm, through the cold and rain | |
| Everything' s still the same, can' t control how | |
| I feelSometimes it' s hard to keep it real | |
| Wooh, yeah, oh |
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