Testo Same Story, Different Beat - Huskii feat. Chillinit
Testo della canzone Same Story, Different Beat (Huskii feat. Chillinit), tratta dall'album 4 Days
Same story on a different beat
The same position I sit in, I didn't lift my feet
Some bitch wanna kick it, I gotta hit the streets
If I didn't go get it, I guess we didn't eat
Back stressin', this dickhead just come evicted me
Back stretchin' this coke, sipping this Rikodeine
I swear I only write tracks so people get to see that I ain't playing
All of these headfucks really get to me
I'm still wakin' up sweatin', thinking she's next to me
I'm too scared to see friends, I know they think less of me
No home, where the fuck would there be a rest for me?
I keep on messin' people up, why the fuck they keep lettin' me?
Stripper bitches keep coming over on ketamine
Then I lay with them, tellin' 'em how my head has been
But there's too many things I wish that I'd never seen
And never say out loud so I wonder, how could we ever be?
Trust issues, the way I can feel the devil's teeth
Why don't we talk anymore? You said you'd never leave
These cut bricks got me numb, I feel like Lil Peep
These debt collectors keep sendin' letters I better read
Fuck, I lost so many kilos, swear I never eat
I still remember what she said to me, it's settin' me on fire
Let me die, just throw me in the cemetery
But I'ma do this shit for my kids 'til the day I die
Yeah, we hustle 'cause we raw
Prayin' that my brother never suffer anymore
Homies know I'm nothing but I'm runnin' up the ball
Homie, I've been fuckin' crying since my son was never born
Homies never call, so I'm burnin' up the fumes
Tellin' me I hurt her and it hurt because it's true
Devil's got me nervous, got the herbal in my room
Baby, I was never perfect but I'm perfect just for you
Like, fuck
No stressin', we seshin', we in the black Wrangle
I got the coppers arrestin' me 'cause we stack dangle
And Huskii robbing for profit, we take the black angle
Brother got the spirit we bottled and then we Jack Daniel
Alleyway and a J, you know we bottle sipping
I ain't Michael Jordan, my brothers know I be Scottie Pippen
Liquor's pourin', my brothers know since I've gotten millions
Demons got me hiding my problems like I be Robin Williams
Sea eagle, fuck it, I'd be the manly type
See evil, hustlin' for this gram of white
I had a wife, she was strugglin' for a chance at life
She was suicidal and cuttin' up with a Stanley knife
But she be better now
So I run it 'cause I'm getting on the double
I'm probably on my second ounce
Losing health, but I'm wealthy and got a better house
Send a letter, I'm sorry, this brother let you down (fuck)
Credits
Writer(s): Blake James Turnell, Cody H. Rounds, Benjamin Darcy Hayden
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