the song i cant find a name for
• Written by Knuckle
hey
this is my life
like it
or not
i live with it
i sit here...
thinkin...
the weight's liftin
im eating 50 cent spaghetti
at a diner at 5 in the morning already
woke up like a bouncing betty
i look gritty
and feel completely shitty
and i hear 2 shots ring out
its my buddy
i run out, i hold him, now my clothes are bloody
he's completely muddy
the paramedics dont come no matter how much i scream and shout
into my phone, i get pissed and throw it out
i tell him he's ok, and he calls me a terrible liar
he says he sees my tears even though he knows im not a crier
can see him fade
his killer comes with his glock, i pull out my blade
he asks me " has your dawg been sprayed?"
and laughs and shoots him in the balls
i throw myself at his ankels to make him fall
this is a straight up 1v1 brawl
musta had his cornrows packed too tight
he lost fight
i beat his brains out
with anger and revenge in my sight
i still wonder all night
why the ambulance didnt come till it was almost night
i was filled with fright
i knew i was gonna take heat
why do i feel like i came back from a track meet
i still remebered his pale face
the times we had spent being chased
by the cops till we reached 8 mile road
he had my back,
i still owed
him, for saving my life
and hiding my knife
when the cops came out
he had my back without a doubt
he would've given me the last cup of water during a drought
if he needed something, all he had to do was give me a shout
So all that shit you niggas kicking we ain't worried about
he was like a brother
born to another father and mother
i still took heat
once this raps done dont ask me to repeat
this aint a diss track
when i close my eyes i can still hear the crack
of the gun, and while everyone else stood stunned
i ran
i saw them hide behind a van
but after what i dictated before happened
i havent told you his last words
that were a bit blurred
he said, "take my Six Fo' "
i said no
you gonna need tomorrow for work
dont die
dont be a jerk
he spit out blood
all over the mud
he said, "you a terrible liar-"
fuck the paramedics, someone call a friar
he shrudders
and then come the paramedic fuckers
with some cops
on of them hops on me
handcuffs me
then i realized why
i took off his jordans
so they wouldnt get bloody
or muddy he loved those as much as life itself
i was dragged away
had my back, i still owed
him, for saving my life
and hiding my knife
when the cops came out
he had my back without a doubt
he would've given me the last cup of water during a drought
if he needed something, all he had to do was give me a shout
So all that shit you niggas kicking we ain't worried about
he was like a brother
born to another father and mother
dont ever stay in a shitty town
or you will get shot down
like a dog in the street
you'll get shredded into whole wheat
flour, get some baking soda
we'll make coke and race a 64 vs a kuda
but it'll never be the same without him
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About the Artist
Knuckle
Member since August 17 2015