lirik lagu jaryd blake - episode 4
episode 4 lyrics
[skit: jaryd blake]
meet jaryd and grip
friends of the sons of mothers who’s sons
lost their lives in the streets
these two young men who’ve managed to survive in cities where too many n~ggas die (yo), they’re dreamin’ quiet (relax, ahah)
tryna dodge a suit and tie
recordin’ in a home studio (yo, grip, good lookin’)
check it
[verse 1: jaryd blake & grip]
i know everything is one
hate and love, peace and water, sky
in the ocean floor, need less, and eatin’ more
first sight never seen beforе
bein’ short, bein’ tall, fall back, get involvеd
you and i meet in europe
last days in a long life, [?] and a tour guide
[?] nah, long day to short night, rich man to poor guy
talk wrong, talk right, like dark, black, white
first one, last time, got time, past time, new lane, dash lines
slow car, fast kind, burst in crash site, manson, baptised
heaven in a pastlife, grip
[verse 2: grip]
i don’t know what i be missin’ more
watchin’ ric flair put his opponents in figure fours
or pushin’ toy cars across the kitchen floor
climbin’ a sycamore, or playin’ n64
or pressin’ my ear against my sister’s door
you ask, what did i listen for?
the pictures depicted over explicit scores
studied that sh~t galore, and jotted ’til my wrists was sore
them words hit harder when your condition’s poor
and you could relate to what them n~ggas spew on the tape
while simultaneously losin’ your faith
so you view music as a thing that you can do to escape
outside is my muse, my inspiration to paint
save souls, lost souls, all the sinners and saints
do you smoke? do you drink?
maybe you don’t do neither
all i need is to cope would make me a believer
’cause i’m a heaver of “hail mary’s”
scramblin’ in a last ditch effort
if i never escape the pocket, then blast this record
knew a n~gga better than k.d. that never made it past j.v
today he servin’ a sentence in the state p
make it out the hood and you considered an escapee
but n~ggas don’t want to see you stay free from atl to az
it’s the same song, i think you n~ggas got the game wrong
think he need to find your place in the world instead of findin’ someone to put the blame one
ran out of sp~ce, hang on
we went from scribblin’ with crayons to chalk outlines
and the only possible way to communicate is a séance
d~mn, ’cause outside is a world wagin’ on
don’t end up a victim’ that live forever through a song
and i’m gone
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