lirik lagu aj tracey - struggling
[verse 1: mark ellison]
listen, uh
don’t talk like you ride with the heat
big 45, put your mind on your feet
studio grind when we light up the cheese
and if you’ve got a problem, write for me g
but darg don’t make me have to ride on your team
i holla at loons like ‘rise up the p’s’
spray a round, lay ’em down
mumma gon’ have to say prayers now
i don’t know why these yout’s used to follow me
cah their girlfriends wan’ holla me
she wan’ honour me
on her knees, gave her the wood, no mahogany
so if i choose to ride with the weapon
you’ll be looking mad like ryu in tekken
don’t get it? tekken vs. street fighter
man i bun herbs, real leaf lighter
i ain’t banging on these same roads
but if i’m banging then i’m banging for my main bros
my team on the grind tryna get dough
lava on the riddim, i’m a walking volcano
[hook: mark ellison]
my soul’s black, my heart’s grey
both sides of my brain tryna part ways
so tell me what’d you know about hard pain?
you’re on facebook b~tching about a hard day
my soul’s black, my heart’s grey
both sides of my brain tryna part ways
so tell me what’d you know about hard pain?
you’re on facebook b~tching about a hard day
[verse 2: aj tracey]
i never listen when the haters are talking
i keep my mouth shut, eyes up, keep walking
cah i know where i’m going gonna make it
haters, you better turn, can’t face it
cah they’re weak and their flow sounds basic
looney wanna turn rapping to a payslip
and if a n~gga wants beef, i embrace it
sutting like a heskey penalty, i’ll sp~ce it
snakes wanna see me fall on my backside
i’ve got the caribbean courage from my black side
i just stack notes, act broke, trap life
fast pace, haters can’t see me, i’m mac5
you’re not me cuz, na you’re not that guy
you hit a zoot, one bun then you act high
you rock lonsdale loafers and act fly
me, i rap tight, lochwest is the catchline
i know a lot of man are snakes in the grass
telling me i’ll make it, telling me i’ll pass
watching what i’m doing then reporting to the babylon
but i does this for myself, gotta carry on
i know a lot of man are snakes in the grass
telling me i’ll make it, telling me i’ll pass
watching what i’m doing then reporting to the babylon
but i does this for myself, gotta carry on
a lot of man’ll move funny for the paper
f~ck a hater, bin bag, see you later
i don’t need no more stress, i’m a thin man
aged eighteen living life like a big man
talk to me ’bout paper, i’m listening
and i never cop jewels if they ain’t glistening
take things off my mind fam
my boy passed away couple years and i’m missing him
i live life, real facts, no fabrication
i keep stacking up the notes for a vacation
but in the meanwhile i’ma phone charlie like ‘jump on the playstation’
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