歌曲 | The Hard Road |
歌手 | Hilltop Hoods |
专辑 | The Hard Road |
下载 | Image LRC TXT |
作曲 : Francis, Lambert, Smith | |
Verse 1 Suffa | |
Growing up I needed a guide like, a blind veteran's dog, | |
Cos I was going nowhere like a child's letters to god, | |
Though life's road was hard I was never so lost, | |
That I looked for an answer in a medicine box, | |
I never did pop pills, or cop deals, just rocked hills | |
Kids with skills, still got harassed by the cops till, | |
They'd have me in the back of a paddy, down to lock up, | |
Smack me, pat me down for a baggy, mums would rock up, | |
And bail me out, a failure out once again, | |
Next weekend, bail me out, drunk again, | |
And I never will forgive myself, | |
For putting you through all that hell, | |
I went from high school dropout to factory labourer, | |
Slave to the clock until four, went from sleeping on the floor, | |
To being out on tour, now no stopping me, | |
I'll finish with a bang like Kurt Cobains biography. | |
Going down a hard road, down the hard road, | |
Don't know where I've been, and don't know where to go its like, | |
Going down a hard road, down the hard road, | |
Don't know where I've been. | |
Verse 2 Pressure | |
I spent my youth like life was cheap, | |
The only change that I wanted was enough to buy a drink, | |
Was on a path to nowhere, the harder the road, | |
The more broken baggage we carry the larger the load, | |
This school drop-out got knocked out, chased by the cops out, | |
Got clout, dumped by my girlfriend and locked out, | |
Been broke and beaten, even chocked at being, | |
A dope mc but never lost hope in dreaming, | |
We used to thrash boosted cars till the engine would fail, | |
If I never had bailed maybe I'd be dead or in jail, | |
And man I got no one else to blame, | |
I thank my family and music for keeping me sane, | |
But that's the breaks right? Started working late nights, | |
Never seeing daylight, getting paid like a slave might, | |
And I've done too many years to miss this for my missus, | |
To have to tell my son he nearly never existed. | |
Going down a hard road, down the hard road, | |
Don't know where I've been, and don't know where to go its like, | |
Going down a hard road, down the hard road, | |
Don't know where I've been, DJ Debris c'mon and break it down like, | |
Verse 3 Suffa | |
And I speak what I feel in the booth in the spirit of truth, | |
Cos all these kids that I meet man they mirror my youth, | |
And I could have gone the wrong way, the easy option, | |
But I chose to go the long way, the streets are watching, | |
So keep a look out, look up, B-Ballers keep your hook up, | |
Tear a page from my book out, and pull out, | |
Your finger put your foot out and keep a lookout, | |
For what we put out, the brand new flavour for your cookout. | |
Going down a hard road, down the hard road, | |
Don't know where I've been, and don't know where to go its like, | |
Going down a hard road, down the hard road, | |
Don't know where I've been... |
zuo qu : Francis, Lambert, Smith | |
Verse 1 Suffa | |
Growing up I needed a guide like, a blind veteran' s dog, | |
Cos I was going nowhere like a child' s letters to god, | |
Though life' s road was hard I was never so lost, | |
That I looked for an answer in a medicine box, | |
I never did pop pills, or cop deals, just rocked hills | |
Kids with skills, still got harassed by the cops till, | |
They' d have me in the back of a paddy, down to lock up, | |
Smack me, pat me down for a baggy, mums would rock up, | |
And bail me out, a failure out once again, | |
Next weekend, bail me out, drunk again, | |
And I never will forgive myself, | |
For putting you through all that hell, | |
I went from high school dropout to factory labourer, | |
Slave to the clock until four, went from sleeping on the floor, | |
To being out on tour, now no stopping me, | |
I' ll finish with a bang like Kurt Cobains biography. | |
Going down a hard road, down the hard road, | |
Don' t know where I' ve been, and don' t know where to go its like, | |
Going down a hard road, down the hard road, | |
Don' t know where I' ve been. | |
Verse 2 Pressure | |
I spent my youth like life was cheap, | |
The only change that I wanted was enough to buy a drink, | |
Was on a path to nowhere, the harder the road, | |
The more broken baggage we carry the larger the load, | |
This school dropout got knocked out, chased by the cops out, | |
Got clout, dumped by my girlfriend and locked out, | |
Been broke and beaten, even chocked at being, | |
A dope mc but never lost hope in dreaming, | |
We used to thrash boosted cars till the engine would fail, | |
If I never had bailed maybe I' d be dead or in jail, | |
And man I got no one else to blame, | |
I thank my family and music for keeping me sane, | |
But that' s the breaks right? Started working late nights, | |
Never seeing daylight, getting paid like a slave might, | |
And I' ve done too many years to miss this for my missus, | |
To have to tell my son he nearly never existed. | |
Going down a hard road, down the hard road, | |
Don' t know where I' ve been, and don' t know where to go its like, | |
Going down a hard road, down the hard road, | |
Don' t know where I' ve been, DJ Debris c' mon and break it down like, | |
Verse 3 Suffa | |
And I speak what I feel in the booth in the spirit of truth, | |
Cos all these kids that I meet man they mirror my youth, | |
And I could have gone the wrong way, the easy option, | |
But I chose to go the long way, the streets are watching, | |
So keep a look out, look up, BBallers keep your hook up, | |
Tear a page from my book out, and pull out, | |
Your finger put your foot out and keep a lookout, | |
For what we put out, the brand new flavour for your cookout. | |
Going down a hard road, down the hard road, | |
Don' t know where I' ve been, and don' t know where to go its like, | |
Going down a hard road, down the hard road, | |
Don' t know where I' ve been... |
zuò qǔ : Francis, Lambert, Smith | |
Verse 1 Suffa | |
Growing up I needed a guide like, a blind veteran' s dog, | |
Cos I was going nowhere like a child' s letters to god, | |
Though life' s road was hard I was never so lost, | |
That I looked for an answer in a medicine box, | |
I never did pop pills, or cop deals, just rocked hills | |
Kids with skills, still got harassed by the cops till, | |
They' d have me in the back of a paddy, down to lock up, | |
Smack me, pat me down for a baggy, mums would rock up, | |
And bail me out, a failure out once again, | |
Next weekend, bail me out, drunk again, | |
And I never will forgive myself, | |
For putting you through all that hell, | |
I went from high school dropout to factory labourer, | |
Slave to the clock until four, went from sleeping on the floor, | |
To being out on tour, now no stopping me, | |
I' ll finish with a bang like Kurt Cobains biography. | |
Going down a hard road, down the hard road, | |
Don' t know where I' ve been, and don' t know where to go its like, | |
Going down a hard road, down the hard road, | |
Don' t know where I' ve been. | |
Verse 2 Pressure | |
I spent my youth like life was cheap, | |
The only change that I wanted was enough to buy a drink, | |
Was on a path to nowhere, the harder the road, | |
The more broken baggage we carry the larger the load, | |
This school dropout got knocked out, chased by the cops out, | |
Got clout, dumped by my girlfriend and locked out, | |
Been broke and beaten, even chocked at being, | |
A dope mc but never lost hope in dreaming, | |
We used to thrash boosted cars till the engine would fail, | |
If I never had bailed maybe I' d be dead or in jail, | |
And man I got no one else to blame, | |
I thank my family and music for keeping me sane, | |
But that' s the breaks right? Started working late nights, | |
Never seeing daylight, getting paid like a slave might, | |
And I' ve done too many years to miss this for my missus, | |
To have to tell my son he nearly never existed. | |
Going down a hard road, down the hard road, | |
Don' t know where I' ve been, and don' t know where to go its like, | |
Going down a hard road, down the hard road, | |
Don' t know where I' ve been, DJ Debris c' mon and break it down like, | |
Verse 3 Suffa | |
And I speak what I feel in the booth in the spirit of truth, | |
Cos all these kids that I meet man they mirror my youth, | |
And I could have gone the wrong way, the easy option, | |
But I chose to go the long way, the streets are watching, | |
So keep a look out, look up, BBallers keep your hook up, | |
Tear a page from my book out, and pull out, | |
Your finger put your foot out and keep a lookout, | |
For what we put out, the brand new flavour for your cookout. | |
Going down a hard road, down the hard road, | |
Don' t know where I' ve been, and don' t know where to go its like, | |
Going down a hard road, down the hard road, | |
Don' t know where I' ve been... |