Time Is Hard Lyrics
| Song | Time Is Hard |
| Artist | Bushwick Bill |
| Album | Phantom of the Rapra |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作词 : Burnette, Ross, Shaw | |
| Times that is hard as a 25 years | |
| Ain't got a dime and ain't seen a chick in a year | |
| I'm catching drama from my mama on down | |
| It's rough as fuck, but homie, I'm staying down | |
| Now I have done everything from Everclear to sherman sticks | |
| I sold dope around town | |
| I'd stomp niggas down | |
| Rolling through my hood like a superstar | |
| Turning corner after corner in my brand new cars | |
| These hoes used to call me baller | |
| But that was 'fore I lost my grip, now they barely even call a | |
| Player cause they know I'm broke | |
| No Rolex and no Benz, just spokes (shit) | |
| Now that I'm back to life, and that I'm back to reality | |
| Got one life which ain't shit without a salary | |
| I'm spitting game so y'all can feel me | |
| Man, I'ma make it out the ghetto if it kills me | |
| And Lil' Jay will make it real | |
| Y'all know the deal | |
| [Verse 2] | |
| Now if it wasn't for moms I wouldn't have no world | |
| You stood tall through it all, so you go, girl | |
| I know things ain't all they used to be | |
| I had to slow my roll, see, trouble's getting used to me | |
| I gots to make you a proud mother | |
| No more crack slanging, I gots to be a proud brother | |
| And take control of my destiny | |
| I can't let these streets get the best of me | |
| It's kinda rough starting over but it's worth the pain | |
| Instead of getting stuck with the same ol' same | |
| Stretched like a rubberband, busting flicks | |
| In the pen for life with some off-brand tricks | |
| Ain't nobody knowin about the pain you feel | |
| I'ma change my life, mama, that's on the real | |
| I pray to God He make you feel me | |
| Man, I'ma make it out the ghetto if it kill me | |
| And mama, that's real | |
| [Verse 3] | |
| No more playing mack daddy for you skeezers | |
| I got one lover, I love her, so I'ma please her | |
| And leave you tramps alone | |
| Since I'm getting shit straight, I'm starting at home | |
| Now which one of y'all was down and didn't clown when I was sleeping on the flo' | |
| My real girl, that's who, that's why I love her so | |
| Got two sons and no daughters | |
| I'm barely feeding both of my kids but I still gots to be a father | |
| That I used to want pops to be | |
| This ain't no dis to ya, pops, cause you're still my g | |
| I'm on a long road to nowhere if I don't change | |
| Life with no crime on my mind feels strange | |
| Working like a motherfucker, slick like a Benz seat | |
| Backing off my old hustle, trying to make these ends meet | |
| I pray to God he make you feel me | |
| Man, I'ma make it out the ghetto if it kills me | |
| And niggas, that's real |
| zuo ci : Burnette, Ross, Shaw | |
| Times that is hard as a 25 years | |
| Ain' t got a dime and ain' t seen a chick in a year | |
| I' m catching drama from my mama on down | |
| It' s rough as fuck, but homie, I' m staying down | |
| Now I have done everything from Everclear to sherman sticks | |
| I sold dope around town | |
| I' d stomp niggas down | |
| Rolling through my hood like a superstar | |
| Turning corner after corner in my brand new cars | |
| These hoes used to call me baller | |
| But that was ' fore I lost my grip, now they barely even call a | |
| Player cause they know I' m broke | |
| No Rolex and no Benz, just spokes shit | |
| Now that I' m back to life, and that I' m back to reality | |
| Got one life which ain' t shit without a salary | |
| I' m spitting game so y' all can feel me | |
| Man, I' ma make it out the ghetto if it kills me | |
| And Lil' Jay will make it real | |
| Y' all know the deal | |
| Verse 2 | |
| Now if it wasn' t for moms I wouldn' t have no world | |
| You stood tall through it all, so you go, girl | |
| I know things ain' t all they used to be | |
| I had to slow my roll, see, trouble' s getting used to me | |
| I gots to make you a proud mother | |
| No more crack slanging, I gots to be a proud brother | |
| And take control of my destiny | |
| I can' t let these streets get the best of me | |
| It' s kinda rough starting over but it' s worth the pain | |
| Instead of getting stuck with the same ol' same | |
| Stretched like a rubberband, busting flicks | |
| In the pen for life with some offbrand tricks | |
| Ain' t nobody knowin about the pain you feel | |
| I' ma change my life, mama, that' s on the real | |
| I pray to God He make you feel me | |
| Man, I' ma make it out the ghetto if it kill me | |
| And mama, that' s real | |
| Verse 3 | |
| No more playing mack daddy for you skeezers | |
| I got one lover, I love her, so I' ma please her | |
| And leave you tramps alone | |
| Since I' m getting shit straight, I' m starting at home | |
| Now which one of y' all was down and didn' t clown when I was sleeping on the flo' | |
| My real girl, that' s who, that' s why I love her so | |
| Got two sons and no daughters | |
| I' m barely feeding both of my kids but I still gots to be a father | |
| That I used to want pops to be | |
| This ain' t no dis to ya, pops, cause you' re still my g | |
| I' m on a long road to nowhere if I don' t change | |
| Life with no crime on my mind feels strange | |
| Working like a motherfucker, slick like a Benz seat | |
| Backing off my old hustle, trying to make these ends meet | |
| I pray to God he make you feel me | |
| Man, I' ma make it out the ghetto if it kills me | |
| And niggas, that' s real |
| zuò cí : Burnette, Ross, Shaw | |
| Times that is hard as a 25 years | |
| Ain' t got a dime and ain' t seen a chick in a year | |
| I' m catching drama from my mama on down | |
| It' s rough as fuck, but homie, I' m staying down | |
| Now I have done everything from Everclear to sherman sticks | |
| I sold dope around town | |
| I' d stomp niggas down | |
| Rolling through my hood like a superstar | |
| Turning corner after corner in my brand new cars | |
| These hoes used to call me baller | |
| But that was ' fore I lost my grip, now they barely even call a | |
| Player cause they know I' m broke | |
| No Rolex and no Benz, just spokes shit | |
| Now that I' m back to life, and that I' m back to reality | |
| Got one life which ain' t shit without a salary | |
| I' m spitting game so y' all can feel me | |
| Man, I' ma make it out the ghetto if it kills me | |
| And Lil' Jay will make it real | |
| Y' all know the deal | |
| Verse 2 | |
| Now if it wasn' t for moms I wouldn' t have no world | |
| You stood tall through it all, so you go, girl | |
| I know things ain' t all they used to be | |
| I had to slow my roll, see, trouble' s getting used to me | |
| I gots to make you a proud mother | |
| No more crack slanging, I gots to be a proud brother | |
| And take control of my destiny | |
| I can' t let these streets get the best of me | |
| It' s kinda rough starting over but it' s worth the pain | |
| Instead of getting stuck with the same ol' same | |
| Stretched like a rubberband, busting flicks | |
| In the pen for life with some offbrand tricks | |
| Ain' t nobody knowin about the pain you feel | |
| I' ma change my life, mama, that' s on the real | |
| I pray to God He make you feel me | |
| Man, I' ma make it out the ghetto if it kill me | |
| And mama, that' s real | |
| Verse 3 | |
| No more playing mack daddy for you skeezers | |
| I got one lover, I love her, so I' ma please her | |
| And leave you tramps alone | |
| Since I' m getting shit straight, I' m starting at home | |
| Now which one of y' all was down and didn' t clown when I was sleeping on the flo' | |
| My real girl, that' s who, that' s why I love her so | |
| Got two sons and no daughters | |
| I' m barely feeding both of my kids but I still gots to be a father | |
| That I used to want pops to be | |
| This ain' t no dis to ya, pops, cause you' re still my g | |
| I' m on a long road to nowhere if I don' t change | |
| Life with no crime on my mind feels strange | |
| Working like a motherfucker, slick like a Benz seat | |
| Backing off my old hustle, trying to make these ends meet | |
| I pray to God he make you feel me | |
| Man, I' ma make it out the ghetto if it kills me | |
| And niggas, that' s real |
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