I Try, Pt. 2

Talib Kweli lyrics

Talib Kweli lyrics

"Ghetto Show Lyrics"

Nothing More Lyrics
My friend i know you've suffered, Although you are still young. Why was it you who'd not take help From anyone? Oh it's true, it's very true, he said, Some hard times i have known, But i have always overcome them On my own. Oh the pearls that you hold in your hand They are beautiful to see, But you show them not to anyone, Not even me. For you are like the others, he said. I never can be sure That you wish just to see the pearls And nothing


Artist: Talib Kweli f/ Common, Anthony Hamilton

Album:The Beautiful Struggle

Song: Ghetto Show



(Intro: Talib Kweli)

Ghetto to ghetto, backyard to yard

We tear it up y'all, bless the mic with the gods (come on)

Precious metals round our necks and arms (yea)

We tear it up y'all, bless the mic with the gods

Ghetto to ghetto, backyard to yard

We tear it up y'all, bless the mic with the gods (come on)

Precious metals round our necks and arms (yea)

We tear it up y'all, bless the mic with the gods



(Hook: Anthony Hamilton)

Whatever in your heart is where you want to be

My hood is the ghetto

Even when you look

Its never what you see

My hood is the ghetto

I've been down before up is just a reach

Cause my hood is the ghetto

Catch a second wind

Then begin again

My hood is the ghetto

Love Makes the World Go Around Lyrics
Love makes the world go around Love makes the wolrd go around Sometimes up (and sometimes down) But love makes the world go around. When it comes right down to it you just gotta go do it 'Cause love is a thing that just won't wait Sometimes it can spite ya or just right up and bite ya And sometimes go up right in your face Love makes the world go around Love makes the wolrd go around Sometimes up (and sometimes down) But love makes the world go around. --- Instr


(Verse 1: Common)

Black magic in the hood, its tragic but understood

Crack addicts,crack windows, crack wood

Even whats bad becomes good, status becomes stood

Upon the pedestal welcome to the ghetto show

Federal buildings, pissy hallways filled with children pushing children

Fiends lips peeling, shit seems real and

What's real is the estate of mind that we're in

The situation feels great

My man peels weight, so he can fill plates

You might get love but you still feel hate

Through and chain plates, we communicate

Chicago to brooklyn nigga real ones do relate



(Verse 2: Talib Kweli)

If lyrics sold then truth be told

I'll probably be just as rich and famous as jay-z

Truthfully I wanna rhyme like common sense

Next best thing I do a record with common sense

Cause its the music, its blues, its jazz, its acoustics

Soul, rock and roll the hip hop we
I Still Don't Give A Fuck Lyrics
A lot of people ask me.. am I afraid of death.. Hell yeah I'm afraid of death I don't want to die yet A lot of people think.. that I worship the devil.. that I do all types of.. retarded shit Look, I can't change the way I think And I can't change the way I am But if I offended you? Good Cause I still don't give a fuck I'm zonin off of one joint, stoppin a limo Hopped in the window, shoppin a demo at gunpoint A lyricist without a clue, what year is this? Fuck a needle, here's a sword, bodyp
be producing yea

It's the gear, it's the flare, it's the stare

Nowadays they'll shot you where they used to shoot the fair

Remember the lost soldiers, pour a beer, shoot the air

We got our own elected officials, no matter who the mayor

I know you know what I'm talking about

From New York to the South, take off your shoes when you walk in the house



(Hook)



(Verse 3: Talib Kweli)

Yo

I grew up where they're playing skele in the parking lot

And sell paintings of Aaliyah, BIG and Pac up in the barbershop

Buildings too big so you don't really see the stars a lot

But rapping, drinking, and going to prison you see them bars a lot

I feel the spirit in the dark and hear it in my heart

And always keep my ears to the block till I dearly depart

Hip hop is really the art

We have to express the part of ourselves that make us want to martyr ourselves

It ain't harder to tel when somebody stick you up and put the hammer to you

They want them dead presidents like Stickman and Mutulu

With a gun to your jaw, these kids don't run anymore

Kicks is a hundred or more



(Verse 4: Common)

A man in front of the store, begging for money and mercy

I told him say a prayer under his breath, he cursed me

Niggaz is thirsty, I heard it's a drought

Up early, serving from their grandmother's house

Sometime the ghetto feels desolate, yo the eyes of the hood yo is desperate

Effected by the deficit, times and lessons get hard

Either get by or get god, but but you try to get by

It's like the block keep blocking

You try to make moves, its like the car just keep stopping

We shorties in the court, need cochran yea

I tell them why the weed seeds popping, in the game you need options

No time for feet watching, me and kwe keep rocking for the ghetto



Hook times 2