Breaks My Heart
Look, with these bristles under my thumbs, let me paint you a picture about the things that's breaking my heart, from when I was young I was blessed with charm, academically sublime so I was a pain for the dumb. Picture, beauty with the brains the kid is insane, i was good soccer player too back in the day. So I had a plethora of options of things to be, either a soccer player or graduating before 23. But now it breaks my heart that I'm 23, neither a soccer player and chasing my first degree, it breaks my heart, shit it breaks my heart, but now I'm busy putting together the pieces, now I'm, learning the ways of baracading the pain, blocking everything up like the president done came, and I am very proud that I ain't got no kid yet, I better keep that till I get my cash well.
Putting my pain on the page, cos my heart fragile cannot handle the pain. but then it breaks my heart that after all
Look, with these bristles that's under my thumbs, let me paint you a picture about the things that keep breaking my heart, see I'm torn apart, I got a part of me that wants to keep on doing music, the other that wants me to stop, and hence, I'm caught up in a juxtaposition, of chasing of this rhymth, and keeping the vision alive and kicking. But now am barely breathing, the flows i had accumulated throughout the years got me drowning and suffocating. Chasing this dream but it feels like chasing phantoms, we try to win but the system can't let us in cause, we from the ghetto we rugged and raw, we seem to be wise, so we can't lie down and let em fuck us off, but our pocket are slim so can't win, the odds are stacked against us me and the team, so we, are pilgrims, independent I mean, if Cassper Nyovest did it then we too are bound to win.
Putting the pen on the page. When we started with this shit, we all thought was a phase ... but then it breaks my heart that after all