blame me - big illinois lyrics
blame me lyrics
keep it simple, that’s just what they said;
keep a pencil, that’s just for the lead
that one’s for they heads:
blow they minds like a mine, laying in they beds;
beats on
baking, ’til a n*gga getting bread
breds everywhere, and now you know i been a ‘head;
same head think of everything i coulda said
coulda done;
had to bust a shot when i couldn’t run
that was not my proudest moment
what i’m supposed to tell my son?
and what i’m ‘sposed to tell my daughters?
keep loving men
even when they never text or call thеm?
i got my faults
but i been across too many coffins
and life is shorter than the shorts on that guy out from boston
to tеll the truth
life is hard, and we fall often
and though i made my mistakes
that sh*t felt awesome
(i come from the middle of the map
hope the city wins
seen a n*gga brain blown
down on 55th…
and garfield
o’s cap
looping larry june down garfield…)
if you ain’t never do no wrong, how could you blame me?
you do what you do, i do whatever gone pay me
i put the foreign on some 20’s and it changed me;
i drop a red bull in my jager and it changed me
i put some women in some stunnaz, now they can’t see
i told some n*ggas they my blood, and now they can’t c
i had to get it on my own
or i can’t eat
if a n*gga wanna try
then it ain’t me…
this is life
see your face in my floors
yeah
this is nice
buying bottles at the bar
will make a b*tch a wife;
but i got hands on some different dice
…rather gamble on myself
baby, this is life…
if you ain’t never do no wrong, how could you blame me?
you do what you do, i do whatever pays me;
i put the foreign on some 20’s and it changed me
i put some women on some stunnaz, now they can’t see…
told some n*ggas they my blood, and now they can’t see
if a n*gga wanna try, then it ain’t me…
low pro, i switch lanes
big truck can spit flames
40 on my lap, bout to switch games;
big illy
call me big il, or call me ilmatic;
whole city
just got a spark, like a twill fabric
no molly, i been insecure
sitting at this table, with a brick of pure;
wrapping up a brick of dope
l!cking fingers, counting money
with the misses close;
never caught a bullet
but that b*tch was close
and she ain’t never been an addict
but that b*tch could smoke…
its a different dope…
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