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lirik lagu coldxman - forward

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[intro]
(whoo)
coldxman
(ooh, ooh)
(and what have we got here?)

[verse 1]
schrodinger’s mc
whether i’m dead or alive, you gotta respect me
i’m tired of politics and i’m tired of press briefs
and i’m tired of college kids with the try~hard aesthetics
i learn less from college than from the wiki binge
and learn more from molly than from religious men
always thought outta boxes, like i finished confessin’
prob’ly would’ve quit rappin’ if not for [?]
he called me on the phone and said
“colеman, you gotta send a message
or еlse they gon’ tell the story without you
and they’ll embellish”
i had to tell it
[interlude]
(a telephone waking him up
and putting him close to sanity)

[verse 2]
i stay up till 4 a.m. dealin’ with my stress
the only way i know how, [?] high west
i’m not from the south and i’m not from the projects
i’m from the place where tony soprano was shot dead
dirty jersey, baby, apologies for the spoiler
i ain’t start from the bottom, but i just started from boredom
i played a artist when critics need to be drawn in court and
purchase whatever’s in front of me just to toss it in storage
so in the end, i suppose you could say i’m payin’ it forward
yeah

[chorus]
payin’ it forward (whoo—ooh)
payin’ it forward (ooh)
payin’ it forward (whoo—ooh)
payin’ it forward (ooh)
(whoo)

[verse 3]
stick to the facts, man
before i published a word, i was writin’ raps, fam
it’s the revenge of the kid with the rolling backpack
silverware matte~black, eatin’ steady
always seein’ too many people or not enough
and often dealin’ with n~ggas who only want a cut, f~ck ’em
the rap game got more puppets than a muppet function
and more dumb babies and product of cousin~f~ckin’
juliard drop~out, made the city my school
not every house is brought down, like the titties could move
but i gotta give the credit where credit is due
that’s why i give it to myself and don’t give it to you
uh, you know i hate to see women in pain
but i also hate all commitments that f~ck with my game
though me and [?] been mixin’ like oil and rain
they still tryna soil my name, critics gotta get paid
i brush it off, mama raised a loyal and diligent maid
when the story is written and all of the riddles explained
i wonder if they’ll fill up a page, or just a footnote
in the meantime
[chorus]
gotta move forward (whoo—ooh)
gotta move forward (ooh)
gotta move forward (whoo—ooh)
gotta move forward (ooh)


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