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letra de lost cause - hyperaptive

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[verse 1: hyperaptive]

let me take you through the life of a boy living his teens
on an estate in london, ridden with fiends
the type of people with not a smidgen of dreams
who were either criminals or just risen as thieves
in a way, daniel was lost from the start
in his ends the crime rate was off of the chart
mum was an alcoholic, dad’s a t-ss-r and half
his f-cking family were drug addicts or locked behind bars
but all the same, danny had a talent from a young-age
he loved writing, could spend hours with one-page
when told it would take him nowhere he was unfazed
convinced he’d be a real artist at some-stage
but for every dream he had the bubbles-were-burst
as he grew into his teens the struggles-were-worse
started dealing like his brothers and troubles-emerged
selling c0ke instead of weed for double-the-worth
and all he saw as important was building-his-rep
making money getting drugs, gold, silver-and-skets
helping his mum where he could with the bills-and-electric
’til his p-ssion for writing and dreams were k!lled-in-effect
he was slacking at school, and hadn’t written-in-months
the only time that he rapped now was spitting-with-chumps
talking about knives and crime as they’d sit-in-a-bunch
he’d act like them to blend in but was sick-of-the-c-nts
deep down, this wasn’t how he’d pictured-his-life
he’d always wanted to write, and be addicted-to-mics
but now every day he lived seemed insipid-and-like
a bad dream he couldn’t wake from thick-in-the-night

[verse 2:hyperaptive]

by 16, he felt like he was loosing-the-plot
he’d let himself down the same road as youths-in-his-block
and he knew now that most in his shoes-had-been-shot
locked up, or left in the block using-the-rocks
he was sitting down with a letter stuck-in-his-hands
telling how he’d been expelled for a couple-of-grams
of cocaine found in his school locker-and-dan
was now thinking stuff his exams, and f-ck-all-his-plans
yeah getting his qualifications would-of-been-great
but he felt like he was trapped and he couldn’t-escape
could of changed when he was younger but he shouldn’t-of-waited
now he couldn’t see one thing good-in-his-fate
every day he was getting by on five and tenner-bits
while his mum was trying to survive-on-benefits
not bothered to move from where her wine-and-stella-sits
most days now, he’d just get high-and-reminisce
back on the days when he could of made-a-change
when he was free to choose from a major-range
of prospects to get a job, and be paid-a-wage
or build up his sk!lls and have his tracks played-on-stage….

[verse 3:hyperaptive]

then one night, daniel was shotting-a-draw
he’d not even got too far from shutting-his-door
when 3 boys nearby watched him stopping-and-saw
the drugs he was holding and started bopping-towards
straight away he knew they were up for having-a-fight
2 were shouting “what you got” and one was grabbing-a-knife
he tried fighting them back, he wasn’t having-a-slice
of it but that didn’t stop the biggest from stabbing-him-twice
as he fell, he wished he could of paused-to-retreat
wished he could of changed everything he saw-through-the-sweeping
images of his life flashing before-him-at-speed
cause he was now just another lost cause-to-the-street
he wished he had of changed his ways-and-practiced
on his talents, now he’d spend every day-on-his-raps
could of had fans out there playing-his-tracks
but he was bleeding to death on the street laying-collapsed

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