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letra de the hardest compromise (t.h.c.) - goodfella

[intro]
one sheep
two sheep
like three sheep
four sheep
uh, a n-gga could get no sleep
ayo, f-ck this sh-t, look

[verse i]
my cells locked, but they let the dangerous n-gga in
eyes open and my appet-te is paper thin
mind’s roaming, lonely, if only i could dial a dime’s phone with:
“sup’ love, it’s been a while, no façade i’m trying to see you smile
you look disgruntled, we could ‘cuddle,’ know you’d love to”
convo got the honey’s running like they hurdle laps
“oh, you heard i rap? where you at?
i got this malbec bottle, let’s relax, stuff a black”
arch her back, and that’s that; got her c-mming back to back
now that’s hood love! ride with me if i move music, move drugs
lie with me! vibe with me, die with me
i’m bobby, you’re whitney; i’m martin, you’re remy
don’t forget me cause i’m bout to blow like a swisher sweets
where’s my weed? one puff and a n-gga breathe
help a n-gga find his peace like retreats by the beach
what i see is concrete jungles heated by police
never fumble, my pursuit of happiness has to be crumbled sour d
humble to the t but my pride is swelling melons like lions in heat
i’m trying discreet, the eye liner elite
peeps eyeing my beats, underlining my feat
i’m smiling from cheek to cheek
‘less the blunt is cut throat, obsessive don’t come close
withdrawals turned my soul cold; my funds low so the fun’s gone
i’m strung out!
so my songs now is how i release my foul lung clouds
from south miami, pris never speak but keep the weed and the guns loud
so i relapse, bong rips and three dabs, say dumb sh-t and relax
i need that; i need that subconscious i’on need wax
to breed tracks so leave that but if i was free on the streets
i’d be a thief, sn-tch the loot and rise
throw salt on the wounds of my enemies
take a swig of hennessy; it’s elementary, right?
bros before hoes, so live like scofield
but as i sought more deals with n-ggas that spoke creole
i’on trust a word these wretched souls spill
i’m ratchet, eat p-ssy in p-ssy there’s more thrill
the d don’t cause a heart condition, the stroke will
stale compet-tion for breakfast some old meal (oatmeal)
dre give this demo a listen or hov will
“come on now, you stressing about no deal? bruh, you’re in jail!
moor warning, “you won’t bail the next battle alive
so spit lines they won’t feel and throw the match!”
mention what you wrote was whack with no metaphors and laugh
ha-ha, f-ck that if ever throw a match, they’ll be drenched in gas
with a trench coat packed with tnt, see
pride is everything to me, i’m living a deadly sin
is this the end for me?
a hit of thc and i’d be dead asleep
man, a hit of thc and i’d be dead asleep
worry free, you feel me?

goodnight (that’s soul)
close your eyes and just sleep tight (that’s soul)
i’ll lie awake and watch your dream
to be sure
whether all of your dream are pure
my dear

[outro: c.o.]
wakey, wakey b-tch!
it’s been three day hunger strikes don’t work for sh-t!

- goodfella

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