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 classroom writings - mistah white

cl-ssroom writings mistah white

riding through these streets you can’t even miss me
escorted by the police, slippin in the streams, driftin and spliffin on this weed
b-tch n0body can ever own me
sometimes i see what im made of, sometimes believing is seeing and im lifting the world up
drinking out of cups, only 15 and i’m already hittin homies up
only to be called a wannabe thug but just because i’m white doesn’t mean i can’t write in lyrical form
and now i’m in high school and all the hoes i know won’t even f-ck with me no more
this rap only sounds whack cuz i sound hard, but in reality im just a retart who’s laughing a lot
i gotta lot of friends, most definitely, but now i find a lot of sins to carry with me
im losing my sanity and everybody knows it, im going out like tolo and everybody rolls with it
cuz i speak through the heart, sketching in this cl-ss and living in my head, i just can’t tell them apart
and i’m walking around with toothpaste on my shirt, not giving a f-ck about my hygiene cuz i’m always at work
and besides my greens im using rhyming to get my stress off
people want me to write them apologies for all the bad things that i done
but those people are way too blind to see their own problems that they made up
sh-t, maybe i’m just frontin, im stuntin over this stump in my head thats stopping me from runnin
im only a little high and i can still write this nice and im mistah white, it ain’t nothin
ain’t that a b-tch, only if i was rich i would make my own rap record to show the whole world the i’m the sh-t
sometimes rhymin is the way too go
fun times is cryin in this sorrowful show
i’m so bored cuz i’m not high and my teachers a hoe
i don’t know whats next in the rest of my life than blowing the smoke
hittin the roach so nice, making my eyes crossed faded and i don’t even know where to go
walking these steps, trying to stay in a straight line after these hard rips, my lungs inflate i think i’m dead, please homie i need to be cremated instead
im over my head and imma smoke some extra though
i inhale the fumes, smoking with moves, eating retail cheerios
god dam, im so hungry i got the munchies but im stuck in this school
thinking of running and heading to taco bell
and my friends all around me are wondering whats that smell
telling them i been smoking again until i fell into this lyrical spiritual spell
casting miracles through my mouth cuz i’m rapping so well
i don’t even need to think, i just blink and the crowd goes wild
its been awhile, since i cracked a smile at life thinking its a great time while i’m high
loving everybody, chillin and having a party, shorties on the floor, ballin like bob marley
calling all the shots and i can’t stop, imma beast every word i’m spittin rewriting history
when the people are seeing me they thinking that im jesus cuz my rhymes are filled with mysteries
mysterious being thinking he’s gonna be me but he is me
living a metaphor at the ending of the song and im walking out the door as life is pushing on, yea aha cl-ssroom writings, thats the song

- mistah white

letras aleatórias

MAIS ACESSADOS