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letra de tackle box - quincy vidal

[intro: le’asha julius]

its like a marathon
love’s brother ruling the earth
so i stick to myself
like a white woman sticks to her purse
i just try to keep the peace
i got a touch of god
a gift
something i can’t figure
the spirit’s inside me but the language i can’t remember
happiness
we gotta steal it
life’s too short for playing games
why you gotta do that for?
saying my name
saying it in vain
sooner or later
i’m coming for ya

[refrain]

uh
got my tackle box ready for a trip
fishing pole hanging off my shoulder finna dip
i’m a danger to these n-ggas, so i’m leaving ‘fore i flip
tell my mama that i love her and i’m sorry for the pain
sorry for the pain

[verse 1: ce]

tell me where’s home for you?
where’s home for me?
where’s home for little boys who have to plant new family trees?
where’s home for josiah, where’s home for enzi?
when they daddy’s heart so empty
it broke they mama’s so bad they replaced it, see how men be?
who’s s’posed to teach ’em how how we can be?
and how we should
when the closest thing they have to a father ain’t doin good?
and the n-gga they s’posed to be calling daddy weak
swear that n-gga could take a leap off a fifty foot peak
see this is where i tweak…
what kind of right i think i got?
to claim those babies as my own when i’m as gone as they pops
ghost on an opposite coast…
but how unfair is it?
i must resort to skype
and this n-gga skipping his weekly visits
who gon’ teach him how we can be?
and how we should?
when the closest thing his children have to a father
is my mama, n-gga
home for you must be where your hatred is
if i ain’t know no better, i’d swear you hate your kids
is that right?

[bridge: ce]

and it might not be such a bad idea if i never went home again, home again (2x)

[chorus: ce]

ahhhhh
i’m packing up my tackle box
tell the world i’ve gone fishing
ahhhhh
got me reaching for my semi-automatic
tell the world i’ve gone fishing
yea

[refrain 2x]

[verse 2: leasha julius]

fishing for the winter gotta stack it up
hibernation’s near time to pack my -ss up
stack that -ss up, on stacks of nuts
your pleasure point’s my favorite joint
take it how you will
tackle box i strap it up
getting ready for my demons is a game of luck
is you ready for the war?
don’t f-ck up
i’m a pistol whip and finish fish
kidnap it and get lost
gets no bail, rick ross
f-cking with the wrong b-tch
n-gga get soft
see my rocket is a fireball lift off
i’m going hard like cleo in set it off
ahhhhh!
n-gga you can’t shake it off
ahhhh!
taylor she don’t hear me though
ahhhhh!
f-ck it i’ma scream some more
ahhhhh!
yippie kow yippie yay yo
sit back and enjoy the show
yo spliff where the weed at?
gimme some mo’
got my long nose smith & wesson
let’s go
over my shoulder my favorite kind of fishing pole
cast away my demons and catch the holy ghost
my words start to shift into a spiritual
it’s lyrical, just watch its empirical
what you see is what you get
it’s quizzical

[bridge]

[chorus]

- quincy vidal

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