lirik lagu nick weaver - falling up
hook (hilsyde):
all these feelings always are the same
and i always leave ‘em fallin’ on the stage
even when i’m feelin lost i’ll never change
falling up i still hold you…
stepped outside, neck glistening sweat/grippin that fresh set that i wrecked/with all those next up that’s impressed/and what’s pressed up in my chest/boy i done sweat it out in these sets/and i poured it down to these speakers and then i check it down to these decks/and that’s what i get/kids come round, to give the daps and a pound/back in a town/somewhere between seattle, wenatchee, spokane, and yakima now/ask how, so much money goes into it/who’s my influence?/how long you been doin it?/not half as long as half these other motherf-ckers never even got to put a ballpoint pen to it/so i swim through the sh-t creek/go blitzkrieg/on this beat/til my face red and my pits real/but i don’t really care cause the crowd’s out there and they moving with me/but if i just blink, i lose that dream/confuse that scene/with the life that i move between/looking for a balance losing steam/and forget what improvement means/but i do this thing for the kids at the merch booth/the fans that say that they heard you/the kids past curfew/and all the other rappers lookin at me like “i felt your verse dude”/and that’s about all it is/sh-t, that’s about all it was/i don’t really think nothing in this life’s ever gonna feel like falling up…
hook (hilsyde):
all these feelings always are the same
and i always leave ‘em fallin’ on the stage
even when i’m feelin lost i’ll never change
falling up i still hold you…
i still
i still hold you
even when i’m falling up
dream’s don’t die, even if the body does/the mind fades quick, and ambition probably just/stays right there where you learnt it/fourteen years old surfin/rap sites lookin for the perfect/beat with my friends all workin/stampin labels on a cd-r surface/now it’s, full circle/slinging albums after these shows/older cat looking back at these rows of kids/with they hands up practically grown/practicing poems/to recite them/somewhere between that hyphen of where my life ends/right in the type of light in this pen/that hopefully one day can be recycled/that means, that we don’t make trash/and the music that blasts represents what we had/so, even if the time p-sses/and we become the past then the sound embodies our path/call it brash i guess, but cl-ssic is what it always was/i’m floating down here with you on the ground, please don’t catch me if i’m falling up…
hook (hilsyde):
all these feelings always are the same
and i always leave ‘em fallin’ on the stage
even when i’m feelin lost i’ll never change
falling up i still hold you…
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