Ain’t no sense to bitch about it
Cause you all know what’s gone wrong.
Late at night, when you’re in your bed,
The Bad Don’t Seem So Wrong.
Tryin’ to justify the violence, reconcile in silence.
Dress it up in fancy clothes. Wash it down with diamonds.
Drown it out with music. Act like they don’t apply to you,
Look how wobbly the rules is. You probly could improve if/
You was in charge, maybe runnin’ thangs
(If) You was involved things would be different.
Maybe you could make a difference
Or probly not and things would stay the same
And you go to sleep at night
Knowin things will never change
Wake up in the mornin and you feelin kinda strange.
Don’t remember last night, so you back at it again.
Turn back up your music. Put back on your chains.
Fasten on your watch and slide on all your rings.
Put back on your glasses that block out all the pain.
Hit yo niggas on the phone, and tell em that it’s on.
Tell em that it’s on.
its kind of hard to listen to anyone else after you’ve become accustomed to Lupe MF’n Fiasco. *MF is for muthafuckin… in case you didnt know*
- smallrevolutionary posted this