The Hard Road Restrung Lyrics
| Song | The Hard Road Restrung |
| Artist | Hilltop Hoods |
| Album | The Hard Road: Restrung |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作曲 : Francis, Lambert, Smith | |
| Going down the hard road, don't know where i've been... | |
| 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. | |
| Chorus | |
| 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. | |
| Chorus | |
| 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, | |
| *DJ Debris mixing* | |
| 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, | |
| Pull 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. | |
| Chorus | |
| 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… | |
| (I'm walking round in circles, came here to find a friend | |
| For my love) |
| zuo qu : Francis, Lambert, Smith | |
| Going down the hard road, don' t know where i' ve been... | |
| 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. | |
| Chorus | |
| 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. | |
| Chorus | |
| 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, | |
| DJ Debris mixing | |
| 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, | |
| Pull 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. | |
| Chorus | |
| 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 | |
| I' m walking round in circles, came here to find a friend | |
| For my love |
| zuò qǔ : Francis, Lambert, Smith | |
| Going down the hard road, don' t know where i' ve been... | |
| 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. | |
| Chorus | |
| 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. | |
| Chorus | |
| 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, | |
| DJ Debris mixing | |
| 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, | |
| Pull 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. | |
| Chorus | |
| 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 | |
| I' m walking round in circles, came here to find a friend | |
| For my love |
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