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Fort Minor - Back Home |
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(feat. Common and Styles Of Beyond) |
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Back home |
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Everybody's searching for somethin' |
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But all they can find is a whole lot of nothin' |
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Back home |
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Ain't nobody hoping and praying |
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'Cause they feel like nothing can save 'em |
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And they try to hold out but they can't fight the fact that |
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Life goes black when those lights go out |
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But I guess you gotta just watch out for your own |
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'Cause ain't a damn thing free |
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Back home |
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Back home / they holler "disciple" and "blackstone" |
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Same block the freebase yo we trapped on |
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Where our grandmothers marched / The guns clap on |
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There's liquor stores, beauty supplies, and rap songs |
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I travel the world just to come back to it |
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The crib got a lot of soul like black music |
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I'm attached to it |
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In many ways this city raised me / and gave me |
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The drama, honor, and bravery |
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The streets seem hollow / when I go to Chicago |
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It's cheap wine and sorrow |
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Times is hard to swallow |
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In search of God's tomorrow / I borrow words from the |
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Bible / and use them for survival / gangs rival |
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Signs painted on walls like hiero / glyphics |
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I tell 'em that this is all tribal |
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Used to do dirt / Shorty's goin' through the same cycle |
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And trials like Michael / tryin' not to stay idle |
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Back home |
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Everybody's searching for somethin' |
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But all they can find is a whole lot of nothin' |
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Back home |
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Ain't nobody hoping and praying |
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'Cause they feel like nothing can save 'em |
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And they try to hold out but they can't fight the fact that |
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Life goes black when those lights go out |
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But I guess you gotta just watch out for your own |
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'Cause ain't a damn thing free |
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Back home |
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Back home it's not Compton but close |
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The same problems exist and the pain throbbin' |
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And folks are so common |
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It don't / really bother us much we just swallow it / uh |
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Crack the bottle and smoke / hope tomorrow something |
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Magical happens that'll put me back in the biz |
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But the chances of it acutally happening's kinda slim |
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Back home / we get the good life at a glimpse |
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In the form of a rap star, drug dealers, and pimps |
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I'm back home |
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I try my best to keep it together it's cold |
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Like the Windy City streets of December |
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I pace back and forth / looking for the courage to shine |
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But can't lap the source / need something to nourish my mind |
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I know we all lose quite a bit in life |
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Only to gain some |
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Life or the dark winding roads we came from |
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But I move with the night / so I'm used to the shade |
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And never lose sight / bringing truth back to the game |
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Back home / We've got a lot of shit on our minds |
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We're always behind on something cause there's not enough time |
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And we're non-stop / bottom line / doing what we gotta do |
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To get some food in the fridge and stay out of the hospital |
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Back home there's people calling us hopeless |
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People trying to tell us all we need is some focus |
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But focus |
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Focus is overrated |
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Cause you see every blemish and mistake and can't change it |
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Back home is Alvarado / K-Town and J-Town |
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Or Little Tokyo for those that don't know |
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Where figures shiver / living right in the littler |
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Where kids write bigger / right inside the LA river |
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On the concrete / a symbol of our everyday way |
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Its that color and concentration over heavy and grey |
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And by the time the ink dries on this page |
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I'll be half a day away from the place where I stay |
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Back home |
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Everybody's searching for somethin' |
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But all they can find is a whole lot of nothin' |
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Back home |
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Ain't nobody hoping and praying |
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'Cause they feel like nothing can save 'em |
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And they try to hold out but they can't fight the fact that |
| [03:14.98] |
Life goes black when those lights go out |
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But I guess you gotta just watch out for your own |
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'Cause ain't a damn thing free |
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Back home |
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k |
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a |
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re |
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e |
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v |