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letra de swim or drown - vince the messenger

[verse 1]
how you figure you know better, with no effort
stay idling, no motion or propeller
no sl!ck lotion, your dry thoughts can flow never
they jumped ship, your best friends is fair-weathered
fear not, they knock back at your door quick
soon as they hear of the dough, that you was due to get
true diligence, no – n-ggas ain’t used to it
the street smart, and the black thought, ain’t no school for this
hard knock, cause the block hot like a tar pit
to get position had to pull strings like a guitar picks
some lose faith, some lose temper then throw fits
get too close, wе dish fades, from balled fists
it ain’t safe on this sidе of the tall fence
they aiming super soakers, get your whole sh-t drenched
i only ride with starters, get your whole team benched
grind in my sleep, like how t–th hit with the jaw clenched
nonsense all riddled in your intake
b-tch made n-ggas get served with a cold plate
oy vey, popped in broad day, ain’t a cold case
bold face lies, see ‘em right through your tall claims

[chorus]
and if i can’t swim, are they gon’ let me drown?
are they gon’ get up in the water just to hold me down?
i wonder how they would be moving if i’m not around
i wonder how they gon’ be feeling when i’m not around
and if i can’t swim, are they gon’ let me drown?
are they gon’ get up in the water just to hold me down?
i wonder how they would be moving if i’m not around
i wonder how they gon’ be feeling when i’m not around
[verse 2]
with back turned, can’t discern what they talking ‘bout
sly hisses from the serpents though, without a doubt
only savvy on the surface, suffer power drought
we in it for the long haul, and coming out for no amount
what you offering? nothing but fake promises
harnessing these flames to auction to true arsonists
artists who bleed pain, use caution they all watching us
fostering deep hate, it’s losses they do want for us
and you wonder why i’m walking with my hood up
on my mama i’ma make it though, i know she wish me ‘good luck’
wonder where i’d be if niimo never told me ‘pull up’
on my father i’m a martyr, here ’til reaper send a bullet
and as of late, i ain’t fearful of much
my soul done been bruised, my torso is cut
torture my mind, thoughts feel like knife to the gut
back stroke, back stabbed, got me swimming in blood

- vince the messenger

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