I Didn't Ask To Come Lyrics
| Song | I Didn't Ask To Come |
| Artist | Goodie Mob |
| Album | Soul Food |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作词 : Barnett, Burton, Gipp ... | |
| Everyday somebody gets killed | |
| What's the deal it's 1995 | |
| And a nigga wanna live the type of life that people dream | |
| I want things, a crib, a car, while living the life of a king | |
| I know i take for granted at times for what i got | |
| Still hustlin' and bustlin' | |
| And now and then i stand a pop or two to come up | |
| A steady battle through the days | |
| Mamma think i'm wrong because i wanna get paid | |
| The system aint given t-mo a chance | |
| 22 on the loose and black | |
| Trying to get the noose a little slack around my neck | |
| They making it hard for a brother to cope | |
| It's still illegal to smoke cess cause they can't tax | |
| I'm ready to go up shit until they give my freedom back. | |
| Service to what, who | |
| Damn, you got caught sought away out | |
| The trait is getting full, calling up your pull | |
| But pull aint got it. | |
| I fell cold inside like | |
| A man sleeping on pavement | |
| Under the bridge of i-20 west | |
| And stress on the face of the man | |
| Cussing out the atmosphere with nobody close enough to hear | |
| And who dat miss they fee | |
| Cuz all they personal shit | |
| Is sitting on the front lawn of apple tree | |
| And for those who aint got take | |
| Before the owner shows back up with the u-haul | |
| Police you call | |
| But wasn't no marshall there to watch your stuff | |
| See i stand tall to this world | |
| Like a kid walking rapping his rhymes to himself | |
| A book on a shelf of many | |
| Mc's seen them come and go | |
| Style free with cool breeze | |
| Til it's thick like dat fog | |
| Stacking away my extra for a engine for tha hog | |
| Dropping a point from the east | |
| >from a location out tha trees | |
| 360 degrees. | |
| Born into these crooked ways | |
| I never even ask to come so now | |
| I'm living in the days | |
| I struggle and fight to stay alive | |
| Hoping that one day i'd earn the chance to die | |
| Pallbearer to this one, pallbearer to that one | |
| Can't seem to get a grip 'cause, my palms is sweatin' ... | |
| Niggas aint getting no where fast but, closer to the hearse | |
| Why sunbeam burst off baskets nearly blinding me | |
| Almost dropped ma end of the casket | |
| Woodgrain and the only thang on my brain | |
| Is where this coward hang | |
| (swats) south west atlanta fountain lane | |
| Forgot the batch niggah got thirty years | |
| Lord forgive me and my foes i know | |
| Revenge is best served when cold by those | |
| Who feel no guilt | |
| God don't care whether you got a spade or not | |
| Aint no turning in your playing hand you was dealt | |
| Better tighten up your belt man, always go with | |
| The first instinct because, i don't make the rules | |
| Oooh, you know how it is in these streets | |
| Victims rarely get a chance to think twice | |
| As he laid in the final resting place | |
| He had such a peaceful expression in his face | |
| My visions blurry from crying | |
| But it aint hard to see that | |
| At any time it coulda been me | |
| It's about 90 degrees outside | |
| But yet it felt like i'm froze | |
| The ceremonies come to a close | |
| I toss a rose but just can't seem to walk away yet | |
| Damn i done ****ed around and got upset | |
| But it aint nothing we can do | |
| It's bigger than me and you | |
| One day our time coming too | |
| So aint no use in being sad | |
| Leaving here was probably the best gift he ever had | |
| We should be glad | |
| Maybe his life was something | |
| That he had to give to show me | |
| That i need to be responsible about how i live | |
| I won't complain about my pain | |
| But i just aint gone let my niggas die in vain | |
| So bean i'm gone make it for you | |
| The cycle that these young black men keep goin through | |
| I'm gone break it for you | |
| And start takin care of me | |
| And me consist of all my friends and my family | |
| From now on, until i'm gone. | |
| Born into these crooked ways | |
| I never even ask to come so now | |
| I'm living in the days | |
| I struggle and fight to stay alive | |
| Hoping that one day i'd earn the chance to die | |
| Pallbearer to this one, pallbearer to that one | |
| Can't seem to get a grip 'cause, my palms is sweatin' ... |
| zuo ci : Barnett, Burton, Gipp ... | |
| Everyday somebody gets killed | |
| What' s the deal it' s 1995 | |
| And a nigga wanna live the type of life that people dream | |
| I want things, a crib, a car, while living the life of a king | |
| I know i take for granted at times for what i got | |
| Still hustlin' and bustlin' | |
| And now and then i stand a pop or two to come up | |
| A steady battle through the days | |
| Mamma think i' m wrong because i wanna get paid | |
| The system aint given tmo a chance | |
| 22 on the loose and black | |
| Trying to get the noose a little slack around my neck | |
| They making it hard for a brother to cope | |
| It' s still illegal to smoke cess cause they can' t tax | |
| I' m ready to go up shit until they give my freedom back. | |
| Service to what, who | |
| Damn, you got caught sought away out | |
| The trait is getting full, calling up your pull | |
| But pull aint got it. | |
| I fell cold inside like | |
| A man sleeping on pavement | |
| Under the bridge of i20 west | |
| And stress on the face of the man | |
| Cussing out the atmosphere with nobody close enough to hear | |
| And who dat miss they fee | |
| Cuz all they personal shit | |
| Is sitting on the front lawn of apple tree | |
| And for those who aint got take | |
| Before the owner shows back up with the uhaul | |
| Police you call | |
| But wasn' t no marshall there to watch your stuff | |
| See i stand tall to this world | |
| Like a kid walking rapping his rhymes to himself | |
| A book on a shelf of many | |
| Mc' s seen them come and go | |
| Style free with cool breeze | |
| Til it' s thick like dat fog | |
| Stacking away my extra for a engine for tha hog | |
| Dropping a point from the east | |
| from a location out tha trees | |
| 360 degrees. | |
| Born into these crooked ways | |
| I never even ask to come so now | |
| I' m living in the days | |
| I struggle and fight to stay alive | |
| Hoping that one day i' d earn the chance to die | |
| Pallbearer to this one, pallbearer to that one | |
| Can' t seem to get a grip ' cause, my palms is sweatin' ... | |
| Niggas aint getting no where fast but, closer to the hearse | |
| Why sunbeam burst off baskets nearly blinding me | |
| Almost dropped ma end of the casket | |
| Woodgrain and the only thang on my brain | |
| Is where this coward hang | |
| swats south west atlanta fountain lane | |
| Forgot the batch niggah got thirty years | |
| Lord forgive me and my foes i know | |
| Revenge is best served when cold by those | |
| Who feel no guilt | |
| God don' t care whether you got a spade or not | |
| Aint no turning in your playing hand you was dealt | |
| Better tighten up your belt man, always go with | |
| The first instinct because, i don' t make the rules | |
| Oooh, you know how it is in these streets | |
| Victims rarely get a chance to think twice | |
| As he laid in the final resting place | |
| He had such a peaceful expression in his face | |
| My visions blurry from crying | |
| But it aint hard to see that | |
| At any time it coulda been me | |
| It' s about 90 degrees outside | |
| But yet it felt like i' m froze | |
| The ceremonies come to a close | |
| I toss a rose but just can' t seem to walk away yet | |
| Damn i done ed around and got upset | |
| But it aint nothing we can do | |
| It' s bigger than me and you | |
| One day our time coming too | |
| So aint no use in being sad | |
| Leaving here was probably the best gift he ever had | |
| We should be glad | |
| Maybe his life was something | |
| That he had to give to show me | |
| That i need to be responsible about how i live | |
| I won' t complain about my pain | |
| But i just aint gone let my niggas die in vain | |
| So bean i' m gone make it for you | |
| The cycle that these young black men keep goin through | |
| I' m gone break it for you | |
| And start takin care of me | |
| And me consist of all my friends and my family | |
| From now on, until i' m gone. | |
| Born into these crooked ways | |
| I never even ask to come so now | |
| I' m living in the days | |
| I struggle and fight to stay alive | |
| Hoping that one day i' d earn the chance to die | |
| Pallbearer to this one, pallbearer to that one | |
| Can' t seem to get a grip ' cause, my palms is sweatin' ... |
| zuò cí : Barnett, Burton, Gipp ... | |
| Everyday somebody gets killed | |
| What' s the deal it' s 1995 | |
| And a nigga wanna live the type of life that people dream | |
| I want things, a crib, a car, while living the life of a king | |
| I know i take for granted at times for what i got | |
| Still hustlin' and bustlin' | |
| And now and then i stand a pop or two to come up | |
| A steady battle through the days | |
| Mamma think i' m wrong because i wanna get paid | |
| The system aint given tmo a chance | |
| 22 on the loose and black | |
| Trying to get the noose a little slack around my neck | |
| They making it hard for a brother to cope | |
| It' s still illegal to smoke cess cause they can' t tax | |
| I' m ready to go up shit until they give my freedom back. | |
| Service to what, who | |
| Damn, you got caught sought away out | |
| The trait is getting full, calling up your pull | |
| But pull aint got it. | |
| I fell cold inside like | |
| A man sleeping on pavement | |
| Under the bridge of i20 west | |
| And stress on the face of the man | |
| Cussing out the atmosphere with nobody close enough to hear | |
| And who dat miss they fee | |
| Cuz all they personal shit | |
| Is sitting on the front lawn of apple tree | |
| And for those who aint got take | |
| Before the owner shows back up with the uhaul | |
| Police you call | |
| But wasn' t no marshall there to watch your stuff | |
| See i stand tall to this world | |
| Like a kid walking rapping his rhymes to himself | |
| A book on a shelf of many | |
| Mc' s seen them come and go | |
| Style free with cool breeze | |
| Til it' s thick like dat fog | |
| Stacking away my extra for a engine for tha hog | |
| Dropping a point from the east | |
| from a location out tha trees | |
| 360 degrees. | |
| Born into these crooked ways | |
| I never even ask to come so now | |
| I' m living in the days | |
| I struggle and fight to stay alive | |
| Hoping that one day i' d earn the chance to die | |
| Pallbearer to this one, pallbearer to that one | |
| Can' t seem to get a grip ' cause, my palms is sweatin' ... | |
| Niggas aint getting no where fast but, closer to the hearse | |
| Why sunbeam burst off baskets nearly blinding me | |
| Almost dropped ma end of the casket | |
| Woodgrain and the only thang on my brain | |
| Is where this coward hang | |
| swats south west atlanta fountain lane | |
| Forgot the batch niggah got thirty years | |
| Lord forgive me and my foes i know | |
| Revenge is best served when cold by those | |
| Who feel no guilt | |
| God don' t care whether you got a spade or not | |
| Aint no turning in your playing hand you was dealt | |
| Better tighten up your belt man, always go with | |
| The first instinct because, i don' t make the rules | |
| Oooh, you know how it is in these streets | |
| Victims rarely get a chance to think twice | |
| As he laid in the final resting place | |
| He had such a peaceful expression in his face | |
| My visions blurry from crying | |
| But it aint hard to see that | |
| At any time it coulda been me | |
| It' s about 90 degrees outside | |
| But yet it felt like i' m froze | |
| The ceremonies come to a close | |
| I toss a rose but just can' t seem to walk away yet | |
| Damn i done ed around and got upset | |
| But it aint nothing we can do | |
| It' s bigger than me and you | |
| One day our time coming too | |
| So aint no use in being sad | |
| Leaving here was probably the best gift he ever had | |
| We should be glad | |
| Maybe his life was something | |
| That he had to give to show me | |
| That i need to be responsible about how i live | |
| I won' t complain about my pain | |
| But i just aint gone let my niggas die in vain | |
| So bean i' m gone make it for you | |
| The cycle that these young black men keep goin through | |
| I' m gone break it for you | |
| And start takin care of me | |
| And me consist of all my friends and my family | |
| From now on, until i' m gone. | |
| Born into these crooked ways | |
| I never even ask to come so now | |
| I' m living in the days | |
| I struggle and fight to stay alive | |
| Hoping that one day i' d earn the chance to die | |
| Pallbearer to this one, pallbearer to that one | |
| Can' t seem to get a grip ' cause, my palms is sweatin' ... |
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