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I break bread over break beats |
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We make ends meet, with paychecks that only seem to last the week |
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I'll take half the blame for not saving enough |
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Instead of investing, digesting escape inside of a cup |
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My brother with the Asian flush painted on his grills |
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See another (?) sucker punch him over old girl(?) |
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Somebody's in the comfort room, eating with old Earl |
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Hurling chunks of dinner in the middle of the swirl |
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That's the price you pay to kick it with the liquor |
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To act a fool, talk shit, and blame it on our lack of inhibition |
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I'm drinking my last glass of spirits for a minute |
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The battle with the bottle and the bottle is winning |
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So liquor please, strategically abuses the weapon |
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And used by the natives making way for the settlement |
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Arrested the development of working class citizens |
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Capacity to fight back is limited |
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And frustrated men take it out upon their wife and little children |
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Seen it first hand in the building that we lived in |
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And chances is the kids will grow up to drink the pain away |
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Some will walk away from it all and be ok |
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But some will fall hard in a mad different way |
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In a future on the block in the middle of the day |
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With a tall can wrapped in a brown paper bag |
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It's a tragic ass story ya'll |
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It's the bottle |
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The bottle... |
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(Cut and scratched sample from Mobb Deep - Survival of the Fittest) |
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Lord forgive me, the Hennessy got me not knowing how to act |
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We grown folks, some of us graduated from college |
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Still unemployed and still ballin' on a budget |
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Pitching in a couple dollars for a gallon of some Rossi |
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Fuck a bartender, that shit is going to cost, g |
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And that's the routine almost every other day |
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Ain't trying to see my comrades, buried in a grave |
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So why it got to be so hard to take your car keys away? |
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And why my man wake up in his car the next day? |
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I kill a pack of Newports in one night |
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Intoxicated gun fight outside of the club |
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Delayed reaction might lead to your accidental assassination |
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No time for hesitation or waiting |
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I'm making an amendment to my rules and regulations |
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To suckle on the hard a., the boones, the booze, inebriation |
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It's the same way the rapists made them drink so they can take it |
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It's how the colonizer fucked the natives for their paper |
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And made the free slaves wear invisible shackles |
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You ain't invincible, You're just belligerent, asshole |
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Calm the fuck down before you catch a beat down |
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The next round is on me, I'll put some rocks in you're Crown |
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Get acquainted with the street |
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Taste the asphalt and see this |
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Shit it ain't sweet, got laced with the beat |
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That remind me of the solitary trip to the bar |
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Hear we are, it's just me and the bottle y'all |
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The bottle... |
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(Cut and scratched sample from Mobb Deep - Survival of the Fittest) |
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Lord forgive me, the Hennessy got me not knowing how to act |
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I'm fallin' and i cant turn back |
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Alcohol is all the lot of us had |
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Instead of taking vacations we'd escape without leaving the pad |
