The Flying Dutchmen, Ricky Fitz - Under Pressure lyrics

They're going on my mind forever
Even when I think I'd never
Get to where I'm going 'cause I
Think it's a gonna be sweet
This ain't a game that I'm fightin'
I tell myself just for tryin'
And if you try to stop me, well I'm
Never gonna be free

Tryna stop me's illogical
The rhyme style's phenomenal
He write philosophical
This life's a long obstacle
Right when you move a few steps
They try stoppin' you
Blockin' you, pop at you
Whatever's fucking possible
My man was confused with life
Was snatching pocketbooks
To get high, crushing pills
Was feeling unstoppable
Until he overdosed, almost died
Was in the hospital on life support
Machines breathing for him in constant view
He lived but kept the habit
Sniffed and was rollin' Ls
Overdosed again then he died
In his holdin' cell
His moms got him tatted on her hand
Life's cold as hell
I cried when I heard that he died
It hit my soul myself
And me, you see whatever your choice is
But the music that I make
You understand that there's choices
And I'm only one out of a million voices
For me, i'm making sense and the
Rest are making noises

They're going on my mind forever
Even when I think I'd never
Get to where I'm going 'cause I
Think it's a gonna be sweet
This ain't a game that I'm fightin'
I tell myself just for tryin'
And if you try to stop me, well I'm
Never gonna be free

Jail stories, six by nine, locked down
Celly tripping, strongly advised
I'm piped down calm down, motherfucker
Punch a hole through your face
On some Demon Knight shit
I can't afford the case
So I sat back, take a deep breath
Threw my brain on ease
The gate popped, feel that day room breeze?
Yo, ox stay running MCs, spades I made
Like ten packs plus the grub I ate last week
Shit is real
Native said he threw a man on the books
Family cool
Guess they still ride for the boy
Ricky Fitz stay locked by the law
Just wanna be free
Yo, how you play your son? Peep that PX
Sheriff
Yo, my MO, burglary, PX, you heard of me
I'm known to snatch safes, when you see me
Don't say a word to me
Silence when Rick's in the booth
Spitting that third degree
Touchdown, Sci home now, yo, God
It's time to eat

They're going on my mind forever
Even when I think I'd never
Get to where I'm going 'cause I
Think it's a gonna be sweet
This ain't a game that I'm fightin'
I tell myself just for tryin'
And if you try to stop me, well I'm
Never gonna be free

Pressure cooker, the good looker
For looking good, look
Shook, you took and we take
Niggas for looking good
Look like it's going good in your hood
We poppin' up stalking on you wild
These pockets is guapin' up
Who's cockin' the Glock and mastered
The stockin' and poppin' what?
Orville Redenbacher, you're knockin'
Pockets is kinda tough
Mines is kinda hurt, gotta find work
Grind berserk
Tick tock up on the clock upon the block
Slide on work
I'm on some nine to five, five to nine
Ten to six penny flip
While shorty at the crib flippin' heavy shit
Nodding off in class from long
Nights in the lab a strong slice to the pad
Got my pen leaking fluid
Staff across the page like sheet music
G clef modern street, new shit, 4
4 time signature
Vanderslice, swift beat kick
Rhyme prime minister
Standing mic, rip, type sick
My mind sinister

They're going on my mind forever
Even when I think I'd never
Get to where I'm going 'cause I
Think it's a gonna be sweet
This ain't a game that I'm fightin'
I tell myself just for tryin'
And if you try to stop me, well I'm
Never gonna be free