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letra de real - james daley

[verse 1: james daley]
got me walking home… in these dirty streets
with a broken a phone tryna remember thirty beats
mental metronome help me sleep on these dirty seats
barely got a home, that’s why i turn to lay on these
parks and benches, it’s hard to mention i cross dimensions
f-ck the lesson, they wasted testing, i loved detention
couldn’t pay attention
had the knowledge but knowledge was only there in essence
practically, you gave my sentence
jail bird and i’m hurting wording my final message
another system victim, i am just a lost percentage
you could talk to me, and i could talk to you
tell you stories and why i hate those in navy blue
that’s the trouble with mongrels who were just made to blew
i wanna rumble the puddle in which i effing grew
up, chuck and cuff this scenes bluff
indeed i seem tough, it means i need guts
or atleast be in luck, or maybe not
i could rot in a cell at night and still never stop
could be h-ll inside but i will never anchor off
the reaper’s here, but the devil don’t wanna k!ll me off
quarantine after quarantine, might just k!ll the scene
tub of lean and a couple of fiends might just do the same
creatine on my pen game just to make some gains
use the beat like busker just to make some change

[verse 2: control]
they tell us we can do anything, but where is the proof?
when all our former role models make us question the truth
it’s way too easy to question, if all their praises are due
when you see rapists and children under the same f-cking roof
but f-ck it
they’d rather label the music as just a cause of violence
they never notice the walls are crying like morgues, asylums
all these haunted eyelids will never close with the thought of dying
they ignore your fighting and keep demanding more compliance
people sharpen axes, like it’s time to mill the stones
carve you into furniture to make sure that they feel at home
the darkest places, might be government commission homes
murder witnesses to children’s innocence’ll chill your bones
hear their mothers scream at night but they just try to sleep
they might just be upon the verge of death but they just grind their t–th
in case their father sees them they fight and plead in the silence, bleeding
nights are freezing, they fight for breaths to try to survive the evening
so i’ll be speaking, for all of the breathless children
who never had a chance to be happy or have a ceiling
i want you to smile, because you’re worthy of love
if n0body ever told you, then i’ll tell you this once
i love you

- james daley

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