Charles Hamilton - Sunday Morning Testimonial lyrics
[Charles Hamilton - Sunday Morning Testimonial lyrics]
No friends, selective family
All for the goal of collecting Grammys
Plenty of stress, a mess I can't see
Blessed to stand, I won't accept the plan B
Or am I left to take a breath as a man?
Mom wasn't happy
Didn't respect my damn dreams
So what, I made lots of new shit?
She'd rather me stop and do gospel music
But in my defense, your honor
I couldn't vent in the midst of
Playing shit behind bishop honor
Traded my organ days in for more days
Of more pain but in more ways I'm patient
My saving grace was a instrumental tape
In which I'd break my pencil tip to say shit
Though I do get offended with hate shit
I made it, now you can't say shit
Can't nobody make you a man or a woman
So you always gotta do what you can
And if you get tired
And you don't understand, just keep in mind
(Hip-hop has saved my life)
Maybe you can make it alive, till then
Just pray that you'll be
Safe through the night
Just be real with your heart inside
Look in my eyes (Hip-hop has saved my life)
Two black eyes, broken nose
Jumped going home
Wishing I was holding chrome
Close to overdose from poking
Holes in my flesh nowhere close to home
Don't you know that in a city where
The streets are nowhere close to gold
I would roam
Perfecting my 'I'm just joking' flow
So I don't care what you rappers tell me
I had some help from Marshall Mathers LP
A little bit of Pac, and of course Rak
And the Roc man, "Oh, Jay's shit? God damn"
To be the best in the mess I was presented
I played DMX and the
Stress would get diminished
Big L died before his time
But he could understand the
Afterlife more than I
So I rhyme to keep sane, Believe that
Thanks to Andre Young, and 3 stacks
When 'Ye hit the scene, I was excited
Finally, someone spit's the shit that I spit
Sometimes, I feel he only spit's
Shit that I get
For my approval, like, "Here Charles
Do you like it?" as far as Wasalu, I salute
Do what you gotta do, Mohammad's watching you
But sometimes I gotta fit in
So I get reckless
'Cuz reckless shit is all that gets respected
So to the kids crying, wishing they was dying
You ain't gotta be like them
To get where I am
I keep looking down with a smile
As the best thing coming
From H-town in awhile please don't give up
I almost died chasing this dream
With my angry 16s
The age of 16, the grave had missed me
So I swear on it all, I'm making history
All for the goal of collecting Grammys
Plenty of stress, a mess I can't see
Blessed to stand, I won't accept the plan B
Or am I left to take a breath as a man?
Mom wasn't happy
Didn't respect my damn dreams
So what, I made lots of new shit?
She'd rather me stop and do gospel music
But in my defense, your honor
I couldn't vent in the midst of
Playing shit behind bishop honor
Traded my organ days in for more days
Of more pain but in more ways I'm patient
My saving grace was a instrumental tape
In which I'd break my pencil tip to say shit
Though I do get offended with hate shit
I made it, now you can't say shit
Can't nobody make you a man or a woman
So you always gotta do what you can
And if you get tired
And you don't understand, just keep in mind
(Hip-hop has saved my life)
Maybe you can make it alive, till then
Just pray that you'll be
Safe through the night
Just be real with your heart inside
Look in my eyes (Hip-hop has saved my life)
Two black eyes, broken nose
Jumped going home
Wishing I was holding chrome
Close to overdose from poking
Holes in my flesh nowhere close to home
Don't you know that in a city where
The streets are nowhere close to gold
I would roam
Perfecting my 'I'm just joking' flow
So I don't care what you rappers tell me
I had some help from Marshall Mathers LP
A little bit of Pac, and of course Rak
And the Roc man, "Oh, Jay's shit? God damn"
To be the best in the mess I was presented
I played DMX and the
Stress would get diminished
Big L died before his time
But he could understand the
Afterlife more than I
So I rhyme to keep sane, Believe that
Thanks to Andre Young, and 3 stacks
When 'Ye hit the scene, I was excited
Finally, someone spit's the shit that I spit
Sometimes, I feel he only spit's
Shit that I get
For my approval, like, "Here Charles
Do you like it?" as far as Wasalu, I salute
Do what you gotta do, Mohammad's watching you
But sometimes I gotta fit in
So I get reckless
'Cuz reckless shit is all that gets respected
So to the kids crying, wishing they was dying
You ain't gotta be like them
To get where I am
I keep looking down with a smile
As the best thing coming
From H-town in awhile please don't give up
I almost died chasing this dream
With my angry 16s
The age of 16, the grave had missed me
So I swear on it all, I'm making history