a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 #

letra de we need to talk about adil - adil omar

pink floyd while i’m kicking in my mother’s belly
pushed out the same birthday as trent reznor
may 17th, 1991
on a line between calm and intense pressure
a psychic present had a true vision
she said that i would be a musician
and the truth is really stranger than fiction

synesthesia, seeing sounds, seeing colors
lights bright, thoughts loud and my speech stutter
survived the kinda darkness i don’t need to utter
rhymes cutting like a knife, like the beat is b-tter
before i could speak, you’d never catch me dead singing
till i heard ’em ring ding dong’in
“keep their heads ringing”
i was 8 when i became obsessed
knew that i would be the greatest but there came a test

and my story begins with rap’s cardinal sin
of being born into money
even though we lost it all when i was 12
by the time i was 10, i was torn into 20
dad’s dead body in the tv room
a couple thousand people at his funeral
seven months p-ss, another long knife
me and my sister had to save our mom’s life
frothing at the mouth, mid seizure
encephalitis, epilepsy and amnesia
i had only turned 11
turned to the rhyme book just to burn aggression
and every f-cking person told me that i couldn’t do it
from my friends, to my teachers, to my family
made a vow that i would honor and be good at music
to retain whatever pieces of my sanity
and everything i had to have, i had to write for it
and you appreciate it more when you fight for it
i gave my entire f-cking life for it
i stayed up every f-cking night for it

grandparents riding all the lightning
third time, exiles and indictments
leaving us smack in the middle of this land to survive
in the wild, it is frightening
living in the middle of the jungle
single mother in the middle of recovery
working three jobs to get by
so the children don’t go hungry
living next door to the big house
born to a generation of addicts
big family, run like an industry
conflict, devastation and panic
swinging pendulum of poverty and wealth
tragedy and triumph, novelty and depth
and my chase for the success
all of this been escape from a young death
promise, mother, i will be the one to change things
i am gonna make it right and do some great things
word to b-real
if i could be real with all my imperfections as an artist
that’s when we heal

f-ck school, i was in and outta like seven
dropping out for the dream was the right method
it was time to make my own decision
create my own lane, or embrace a lonely prison
n0body else was gonna do it, had to take a risk
i took the only thing my father left me
almost a hundred grand to sail a ship

this is all or nothing, do it with the will of a kamikaze pilot
even if it means i’mma crash, i’mma burn
i’mma learn, i’mma earn, f-cker, i’mma body my sh-t
went to la to exhibit my sk!lls
on the real, what’s the deal, but got taken for a ride instead
19 without a safety net beyond this
feeling violated, part of me wishing that i was dead
turned celebrity back home
journalists and media start politicizing me
my entire being taken out of context
many demonizing, doing more than criticizing me
threats against my life from misunderstandings
neck deep in this chaotic sh-t, what’s f-cking happening?
all of this feeling foolish and embarr-ssing
2012, i had a goon for a manager (let’s be honest)
and even when he screwed us over
had his back for him (still love you tho)
while the government was shutting down our platforms
(kholo ban)
so if you were making music, you were truly stuck
in this bubble, couldn’t breathe, and you were truly f-cked

electrocuted in the shower and i nearly perished
pushed me closer to the one thing i really cherished
kept my hustle up, kept my muscle up
broke as f-ck, but i never used another crutch
kept momentum as a bold shaker and mover
rap wasn’t enough, became my own favorite producer
stayed evolving and expanding my horizons
dropping knowledge on the canvas like a t-tan
and since 9, i always threw up, sick
vocabulary of a poet, truly, you suck d-ck
if you dismiss me, because you think i grew up rich
that’s only half true, and doesn’t mean i grew up b-tch

so ahead of my time, the world ain’t caught up
so ahead of my rhyme, a quantum chain-link
a mad g*nius creating in my own lab
infinite versions of me doing the same thing
all eyes, but i’m 2pac-istani/too pakistani
so they still in fear
if i was black or white by f-cking 25
i’d have been a millionaire

never boneless in my character
prince in bani gala, but been homeless in america
they ain’t getting down like this
name anything that sound like this
sonic mongol on a pillage

and do it all from a village

snkm, am to the pm
this my lifeblood, pm to the am
in the lab with talal every day and
i gotta prove myself to who
suroosh, dre, em?
paul rosenberg, kevin, wes/diplo?
they, them, him, her?
is that a yes? – b-tch, no
you had to prove yourself to you and be your own best
tell my past self i p-ssed all of my own tests
achieved a goal deemed impossible
maybe i’m a god and created my own obstacles
maybe i am hercules taking mount olympus back
maybe i’m an athlete and this is my olympic track
try to comprehend everything i came with
if i don’t get a grammy then the grammy’s ain’t sh-t

- adil omar

letras aleatórias

MAIS ACESSADOS