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letra de you don't understand - questionmark asylum

[hook]
you don’t understand is that i’m so sick and tired
walking all day cause i ain’t got a ride
counting my money, i’m down to my last ten
you don’t understand is that you can’t win
(you can’t win)

[verse 1: rosta swann]
i got ulcers in belly and my brain i got tumors
my neighbors are so nosey they proceed to spread rumors
“like ros smoked that sh-t.”
“he f-cked that sick b-tch.”
why should i care when there’s blood on my stairs
i get down on my knees as i proceed to say my prayers
like, “k!ll my landlord, lord k!ll my landlord.”
trying to claim every single thing i raise my hands swollen
and if i die was my life all in vein?
is money really power is fame really pain, it’s a shame
i know i need to get my life together
but it takes money just to make money and i got none
coming up on the rough side of the mountain

[hook]

[verse 2]
is i the only one? why don’t somebody let me know?
i’m tired of hanging around, i can’t get through the front do’
you know i gotta be outtie but i can’t win
living here ain’t too tight
now-a-days mama don’t wanna talk mama just wanna fight
it’s stressing, i’m hoping god will send a blessing
and save me from these people down here
that’s constantly testing
my patience, why i gotta hear the madness?
and n-ggas up my street be rolling love in the lexus
oh yes i see ’em all the time
as i walk my destination they roll by with a peace sign
a phony smile they shine
uh huh i know they laughing at me
rolling with some tricks that probably say that i look tacky
(what happened to your big dreams man?)
they keep raising it!
i thought i was making hits in the bas-m-nt
at least me and digge think so
but every time we represent somebody always gotta get technical

[bridge]
if there’s a cure for this
you know i want it, i want it
if there’s a cure for this
you know i need it, got to have it

[verse 3]
i’m just another have not of the crab pot
but tell me who really gives a d-mn about this sh-ll of a man?
(cause i wanna live suave carry a fat bank wad
spending winter in jamaica on the holiday spot)
from the bowels of the foul i’ll howl at the moon
wearing other people’s clothes i stole from the laundry room
if it’s a curse tell me who put the root on the q
as if ya never knew
see when sights in the city make me bitter
neighbors frighten and bicker
so i bow my head and say grace for the liquor
then i stagger to the porch lighting up a newport
(i borrow money from my mama but i’ma cut that mess short)
in a dirty tank top, sweat running from my scalp
n-ggas look me up and down like, “what’s this bammer all about?”
i’m out, six in the morning, yawning on my way to work
and if n0body do not move, n0body won’t get hurt
flirt with fate, get me stuck by luck
it’s the curse of the q so now you know what’s up

[verse 4]
see somebody tell me is i the only one?
walking around town like my shoes weigh a ton
i’m trying to get paid but where do i begin?
they always want experience so i just give on in
even when i talk to chicks they try to mack me
they probably were the ones that sent them guys up to jack me
attack me
i’ll probably do the same thing
plus i could get my car if i stole your watch and your gold ring

[verse 5]
f-ck cleaning a latrine when my dream is all caught in between
a rock and a hard place

- questionmark asylum

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