Brotha Lynch Hung, Cos - I Give Up lyrics

[Brotha Lynch Hung, Cos - I Give Up lyrics]

I Give up

I give up
I give up

Yeah a Fuck rap!
Til I own my own shit
I rather hide in ya closet
An think about ya kids while
They sleepin' the crib
Just to make ya mad I been bad
I'ont know what fuck I been
Thinkin in my head
(damn)
It's like I never stay sober
I just drown in it
My nigga I gotta just off I just
Pound in it pound in it
I really feel like I'm doin
This shit for nothin
Make a album in three weeks and it'll


A be tight if ya lucky
And I do it fo the fans
Cause they love strange music
And its really gettin close before
I'm throwin up the deuces
I just did a three album trilogy
George lucas
An I only got a lil bit left to pour into it
And then the gas tank is empty wit no station
An I know a full a hand
Of emcees that won't say it
Money is the root of all
Evil ya'll keep tryin
Got you lyin to ya self
When ya'll keep lyin

I give up

I give it up on it all together
I show'em my love they think
Its tougha than leatha
I show'em my struggle I
Just show'em my hand
Shits like a puzzle I dont fit in no plans
No I ain't fit no muslim
I try to stick what I can
They threw a nigga overboard
This how I swam
Cause this who I am
A high school dropout, convicted felon
You ever saw ya mom walked
Out and just keep bailin
In the mean time they sellin me dreams
I put my heart on the line
I ripe it right out my sleeves
Before the heart overwind
Just the feelin between
Cause when I'm slope, it don't bother me
I outta be screamin' how theses
Nightmares come when I'm dreamin'
You think I live on em street the
Way they got me wakin up bleedin'
And these voices yellin' at me
Tellin I need to feed'em
When they fuckin me so raw
I should be drownin and seaman

I give up

See, supeshes in the house but
Ya'll don't know about that
(shit)
You the reason why we go on the
Road an get so much dap
We the reason the fans
Understand about our life
See they go though the same ass
Shit! they just like us
Damn we gettin love in the
Game thanks to strange
(oh wee) we like drew breeze
Niggas saints in the game
But I don't get no losses ain't o and 3
I eat my meat real fresh
It ain't molded meat
I know the season just started
But I'mma bring the heat
And if this is my last
Album I won't be surprised
But if I do a couple more
An I don't get the prize
I never be the motherfucka
That'll seem to feat
I GIVE UP!
I'm sick of this, burnin me like a silphis
I'm about to disappear niggas
Call me menso fliks
A Rob Rebecc I'm done take that to the hood

I give up

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