Busta Rhymes, Stevie Wonder - Been Through the Storm lyrics
[Busta Rhymes, Stevie Wonder - Been Through the Storm lyrics]
Been through the storm
Through the cold and rain
Everything's still the same
Can't control how I feel
Sometimes it's hard to keep it real
You see the luxuries in life
With the fortune and fame
Like them Cadillacs with sunroofs mayne
So many ways to make a dollar
Huh, sometimes I think about my father
You see my poppa was broke
And my momma was young
Tryin to blend in with them city folk
Every day landlord knockin down my do'
Wonderin where my next blessing is comin from
My momma and poppa
Moved to the US as Jamaicans
Struggled to get visas and
Green cards through immigration
Though my pop was po'
Stayed away from crime and malice
Hard living gave him hard hands and callous
As a young'n
Peep how much they loved each other's space
His hard hands rubbin against the pretty
Skin of my mother's face
Dig for treasure 'til his hands looked
Like hands of a junkie so coarse
Slap a mule and take the life from a donkey
On the other hand
Mommy was the type to work two jobs
Never enough money
That's why I got your whole crew robbed
Got older
Developed ways of grippin the steel
Barely home for me to see her
Or get a good cooked meal
Seek refuge in the alleged land of the free
Lookin blendin in with city folk
Down in Flatbush Brooklyn
Feel a little of my pain
Follow and sing to it homey I seen it all
If you ain't knowin I been through it
In other words I
Got a little older, late teens
Me and my crew would huddle
On the corner late nights
Plottin to escape struggle
Nights got cold and still would
Hustle in the same place
In front of Pancho Delis
Now the freeze up on a nigga face
1987 Reaganomics ever curious
To visit other cities
Out of town kick was serious
Guayanese jeans bounce
Put whatever slinger on
Whatever slinger came back
Quickly brought me right along
Nigga ran away from home
Doin different wild shit, just to put
A pair of Filas on, 'Didas on
Wreck is all for the good, gettin into shit
Like we innocent, actin older than we should
Walk around broke in the hood
Watchin all the rich niggas
These younger thugs who try to choke
And try to get niggas
Thinkin 'bout my mom and pop
While I'm monopolizin
To hell with just gettin by and economizin
It's kinda hard bein humble in
The belly of struggle
Doin things that probably get you in trouble
That's why we stay up on the block
Gettin money while we keepin it safe
In front of churchgoers keepin the faith
Mom and pop be worryin for they son
Despite they struggle and their
Honest livin look and see just what I become
A scavenger, in brute pursuit to be happy
Another young'n that's wildin
Across the line until somebody tryin to
Cap me - ohhhh shit gunfire
I been through the storm
Through the cold and rain
Everything's still the same
Can't control how I feel
Sometimes it's hard to keep it real
Wooooooooooo-whoahhhhhhhhhhhhh
Yeahhhhhhhh ohhhhhhhhhhhhahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
Through the cold and rain
Everything's still the same
Can't control how I feel
Sometimes it's hard to keep it real
You see the luxuries in life
With the fortune and fame
Like them Cadillacs with sunroofs mayne
So many ways to make a dollar
Huh, sometimes I think about my father
You see my poppa was broke
And my momma was young
Tryin to blend in with them city folk
Every day landlord knockin down my do'
Wonderin where my next blessing is comin from
My momma and poppa
Moved to the US as Jamaicans
Struggled to get visas and
Green cards through immigration
Though my pop was po'
Stayed away from crime and malice
Hard living gave him hard hands and callous
As a young'n
Peep how much they loved each other's space
His hard hands rubbin against the pretty
Skin of my mother's face
Dig for treasure 'til his hands looked
Like hands of a junkie so coarse
Slap a mule and take the life from a donkey
On the other hand
Mommy was the type to work two jobs
Never enough money
That's why I got your whole crew robbed
Got older
Developed ways of grippin the steel
Barely home for me to see her
Or get a good cooked meal
Seek refuge in the alleged land of the free
Lookin blendin in with city folk
Down in Flatbush Brooklyn
Feel a little of my pain
Follow and sing to it homey I seen it all
If you ain't knowin I been through it
In other words I
Got a little older, late teens
Me and my crew would huddle
On the corner late nights
Plottin to escape struggle
Nights got cold and still would
Hustle in the same place
In front of Pancho Delis
Now the freeze up on a nigga face
1987 Reaganomics ever curious
To visit other cities
Out of town kick was serious
Guayanese jeans bounce
Put whatever slinger on
Whatever slinger came back
Quickly brought me right along
Nigga ran away from home
Doin different wild shit, just to put
A pair of Filas on, 'Didas on
Wreck is all for the good, gettin into shit
Like we innocent, actin older than we should
Walk around broke in the hood
Watchin all the rich niggas
These younger thugs who try to choke
And try to get niggas
Thinkin 'bout my mom and pop
While I'm monopolizin
To hell with just gettin by and economizin
It's kinda hard bein humble in
The belly of struggle
Doin things that probably get you in trouble
That's why we stay up on the block
Gettin money while we keepin it safe
In front of churchgoers keepin the faith
Mom and pop be worryin for they son
Despite they struggle and their
Honest livin look and see just what I become
A scavenger, in brute pursuit to be happy
Another young'n that's wildin
Across the line until somebody tryin to
Cap me - ohhhh shit gunfire
I been through the storm
Through the cold and rain
Everything's still the same
Can't control how I feel
Sometimes it's hard to keep it real
Wooooooooooo-whoahhhhhhhhhhhhh
Yeahhhhhhhh ohhhhhhhhhhhhahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh