paroles de chanson Reasons - Diabolic
I'm
respected
in
this
game,
I've
rocked
every
spot
I've
been
in
While
you
can't
show
your
face
like
Islamic
women
rocking
linen
But
I'm
stuck
living
in
mom's
house
without
a
fucking
bed
Cause
these
major
labels
put
out
wack
emcees
like
Pumpkinhead
So
I
ain't
touching
bread,
I've
been
ducking
feds
Ain't
even
hustle
for
myself,
I
spent
it
on
some
cunt
instead
Got
nothing
left,
every
breath
is
harder
than
the
last
When
success
seems
out
of
reach,
slipping
farther
in
the
past
That's
why
I'm
trashed,
sparking
up
this
hash
in
a
session
Packing
up
more
angel
dust
than
the
attic
in
heaven
That's
why
I'm
pissed
off
like
having
a
bladder
infection
With
broken
catheters
left
in
my
dick
when
I
have
an
erection
It
got
me
liable
to
snap
in
a
matter
of
seconds
Pulling
Mac-11s
like
Pun
from
the
back
of
an
Acura
Legend
I
just
think
of
my
future,
past
and
the
present
Try
to
capture
the
essence
and
find
some
sort
of
lasting
impression
But
all
I
found's
a
corrupt
cop's
act
of
aggression
Grabbing
me
and
smashing
my
head
in
with
the
back
of
his
weapon
That's
why
I'm
beyond
the
blessings
of
a
Catholic
confession
And
why
I
take
cash
when
the
plate's
passed
for
collection
I've
had
it
with
being
the
illest
rapper
to
step
in
Lacking
success
in
the
game
when
dudes
bite
like
they
don't
have
a
reflection
I've
had
it
with
these
labels
so
I'm
breaking
the
mold
Cause
they
ain't
just
taking
creative
control,
they're
taking
my
soul!
The
reason
I'm
a
liar,
the
reason
I'm
a
thief
The
reason
that
I
steal,
the
reason
that
I
cheat
Is
the
reason
you
avoid
me
when
I'm
walking
down
the
street
And
it's
probably
the
same
reason
I'll
end
up
deceased
The
reason
I'm
a
liar,
the
reason
I'm
a
thief
The
reason
that
I
steal,
the
reason
that
I
cheat
Is
the
reason
that
I
wild
out
and
riot
in
the
street
And
it's
the
same
reason
my
fucking
life
will
never
have
peace
Yo
I
think
about
Hip-Hop
and
how
they
just
take
it
away
Cause
I
grew
up
when
Wu-Tang
got
rotational
radio
play
But
nowadays
if
I
say
shit
I'm
nothing
but
a
hater
Til
I
pull
a
rusty
razor
and
cut
your
face,
like
"fuck
your
paper!"
Maybe
I'm
mad
cause
labels
use
food
stamps
to
pay
me
But
I
can't
be
only
one
who'd
rather
hear
Boot
Camp
than
Jay-Z
So
yeah,
I'm
underground
and
my
fans
are
backpackers
But
at
least
my
fans
don't
buy
mixtapes
full
of
wack
rappers
I
can't
front,
I
listen
when
I'm
in
the
club
grabbing
tits
and
The
bass
is
so
loud
I
don't
hear
the
trash
you're
spittin'
All
that
glamour,
glitz
and
packs
of
crack
you're
flipping
Won't
be
real
'til
you
stop
bragging
and
say
it
was
a
bad
decision
If
you're
anything
like
me,
you're
poor
with
a
tortured
past
Getting
beat
by
pigs
because
your
pants
are
half
off
your
ass
Ain't
tossin'
cash
in
photographs
with
some
camera
crew
You
was
black
and
blue
in
handcuffs
on
New
York
Avenue
That's
the
truth,
that's
the
reason
I'm
almost
suicidal
Feeling
out
of
place
like
Muslims
with
a
Jewish
bible
Been
taking
drama
from
my
baby
mama,
now
my
mind
is
gone
Weight
of
the
world's
on
my
shoulders,
and
eight
planets
piled
on
Rifle
drawn,
pointed
at
the
cops
when
you
calling
them
Six
million
ways
to
die,
I'll
try
all
of
them
Holding
a
Glock
and
squeezing
until
they
stop
my
breathing
I
know
I'm
crazy,
don't
ask
me
why,
I
got
my
reasons
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