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Текст (слова) песни: Made Men - Blowin` Circles in the Wind

(Talking in background)

Yo
Turn up my headphones

Sometimes, I don`t even know if I`m coming or going
(We about to take you there)

[Chorus]
Please lord let me make it through a day without no pain
How can I make it through the fire when there is no rain?
Send me free stuff dwelling on my sins
Cause you got me blowing circles in the wind

repeat Chorus

[Verse 1: Mr Gzus]
I`m high as hell loungin` on my Ralph Lauren sofa
Caught up in this game trying to maintain the quota
Before it`s over, gun talk before the gun spark
Survive this long cause of the way I keep my gun cocked
It`s so dark, when I delve into my memoirs,
And it`s so graphic; I strap myself with my Kevlar
Hand on my gun metal, for all the beef that`s unsettled
Sold everything a thug pedalled, I`m just one rebel
Thoughts are through in mind a la Kurt Cobain
Yo, it`s slow pain, like cocaine, flowing through a cold vein
I meet the odds, now I pray to the gods
My niggaz in the yard get dealt some better cards
Made Men`s at large, get the fuck up ou to f Dodge
Your whole entourage will get hit up with a barrage
My choice weapon, the legacy of my legend
Will still live on, until the day of Armageddon
When I hit the dead end, yo, it`s fire on the crucifix
I`m losing it, trying to figure out who`s the snitch
I shed blood for my honour, on the street corner
Hotter than a sauna, blazin` marijuana
Duckin` shots and regroup I buck back, yo
Cause fuck that, that`s where niggaz be getting snuffed at
Whatever`s coming tell me, I`ll take i to n the chin
So for every sin, I`m blowing circles in the wind

Chorus 2X

[Verse 2: Antonio Twice Thou]
I inhale and blow it out
Stress calls, in the Source no doubt
I got steam to blow the top off a pressure cooker
I had a dream; it seems frustration took us
Do I have to grab a gat to touch my fantasy?
Or will I live long enough to have a chance to see
If I can blow the spot, show the world what I got
You know there`s a million niggaz thinking just like me
Smokin` on the same weed, livin` on the same named street
With the same fat beats,
and all criminals for fucking with cracks and heats
We magnets to the dragnet, young, black and got assets
to make a smash like the crash test
Now what`s next, lifestyles of the trifle fraudulent
I work hard, my life; it`s still hard to get
Interruption from a deep thought, to twist up
Architect, I roll blunts perfect, apex when it`s lit up
I can`t relax; I`m never calm
No matter what happens, somebody drops the bomb; trying to do me harm
And these street politics got me strapped up
with a .45 stick and a habit on bricks
I pat myself on the chest, to feel a vest
Cause jealousy and envy among my peoples is a mess
Don`t playa hate, hate the game
It`s all the same; I`m blowing circles `til I`m blowing flames
Ain`t nothing changed

Chorus 2X

(Chorus continues in background)

Where my thugs at? (Made Men) 5X

Chorus 2X

 

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