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Track 3 from Patrick Baitman's '80's Baby: White Privilege' Mixtape
lyrics
Cocaine nights
They wanna know where I been for the last few years,
Out committing sins, tryna hold onto my last few tears,
Watching my last few peers, go broke, go jail,
If you road, you know well.
You could get blinded on the path to Damascus,
Doing lines after dark, with the raptors,
Listen to your beating heart, on the mattress
Like lord why you leave me so broken,
Brothers wandering, when ya see me no jokes king.
I ain't laughing at all,
Lot of man I know, they were bastards at school.
Don't think that the classrooms were small,
And don't think that the monkey on our back been mastered at all.
They say my ass cynical,
I just seen a few things, that have you doubt ya faith,
Make ya move yourself up out of that race,
Cos rats don't respect cats,
And Liars don't respect facts
I spit that fire,
Like the guy out of left rag P.
Certainly don win so we certainly don't play,
Certainly don't grin cos were serving cocaine.
Ay ay ay ay
X2
Money is the motive
It's the reason that I wrote this.
You know we hustle like Albanian's,
Just to get that gwop, we set up shop,
On the corner like we Asian,
I ain't taking orders from a pagan,
Remember how they used to ignore us,
Now the same damn yats looking for us like the bacon.
Can't forget being sat in my flat eating Rayman (noodles)
That's when music came to save man.
Now the writings on the wall like caveman.
Lightning hit my brain like raydan
Then came the thundering , started mumbling like rainman,
Kept humble. Quit hustling for space jams (Jordan's)
Now I'm on a whole different wave fam P
Certainly don win so we certainly don't play,
Certainly don't grin cos were serving cocaine.
Ay ay ay ay
X2
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