simonslillaskrivstund

Yeah, Yeah, it’s me, strugglin.

I start out, just to vibe out, I ain’t about
to bow out, I’m more gangsta than you are but I ain’t
about the raw raw, my season will come, it has to,
honestly I feel like I’m ten months pregnant or
something, I’m passed due, sincerely I’m touchy these
days I can’t take nothing, I’m tryna treat my record
like the law shit I’m dying to break something, and
mostly, I’m up and stressin, when other folks sleep,
believe me, I know struggle, and struggle knows me, my
life owes me, like an overdose I’m slowly, drifting in
the arms of trouble, then trouble holds me, and
nothing else’s close to me, more than pain
unfortunately, like a self fulfilling prophecy, I’m
suppose.

Strugglin, and it’s trouble in, in this
circumstance I’m dwelling in I find myself in the
corner huddling, with some angry men, and I gotta
settle shit again before they gotta kill again, I’m
strugglin, and it’s trouble in, in this circumstance
I’m dwelling in I find myself in the corner huddling,
with some angry men, and I gotta settle shit again
before they gotta kill again.

I should be chillin on beaches, instead my
bone freezes, ducking glocks and I walks, well, like
Jesus, the realest thing for me is, since I was a
fetus, the only break I ever got, was at recess, so
legitimately, I remain very little relieved, and at
thug rappers, I remain very little intrigued, and can
you blame me, look how we lived in the late eighties,
throwing rocks at the crazy ladies, and when we’d play
these, crazy game, the whole crew had crazy names, we
even had a cripple we use to call em lazy legs, but my
faith remains, untouched and unchanged, still in my
block you hear more shots than a gun range, I’m…

Strugglin, and it’s trouble in, in this
circumstance I’m dwelling in I find myself in the
corner huddling, with some angry men, and I gotta
settle shit again before they gotta kill again, I’m
strugglin, and it’s trouble in, in this circumstance
I’m dwelling in I find myself in the corner huddling,
with some angry men, and I gotta settle shit again
before they gotta kill again.

 Aight aight, more to the truth, no writing
just record me at the booth, forced by the loop and
the guitar but I’m the boss of the groove, I speak
truth my deep roots remain in equal danger, the pain
on my song is crazy but the sequel is stranger, hey
man, I’m from the hardest heartless projects, dear
departed I’m now known as a recording artist, spilling
what little remains of your memories in the process,
bitter a little, but making your names in to a
colossus, believe me, I’m thankful my brother is still
with me, and ain’t much changed Bobby is still
troubling Whitney, and Bush is still bombing poor
people yo he’s deadly, and me I got a little recording
gig but evidently, I’m….