Uh
Uh
Trouble in the one-six
Trouble in the one-six-nine
Yeah, saying they don't want this
Uh, saying they don't want this life
Trouble in the one-six
Yeah, trouble in the one-six-nine
Yeah, saying they don't want this
Come across this, check, life
Ah, she see my father in me
That's why she argue with me
That's why they can't forgive me
Ah, rock and a hard place wearing a hard face
Close the door, leave my house like I'm Scarface
Yeah, sweet success that I can't taste
Heard the bang, still finishing the last race
Lapping me, a year ago, yo, they was clapping me
Nobody told me that I'd lose it so rapidly
I thought this was the kind of thing that goes gradually
My hairline, the good guys, I was glad to be
Grim Reaper's catching me
Yeah, it's like I work for him
I'm being punished for the times that I would sin
When I tried to do right, still I did the wrong thing
Yo, I thought I was a king
Yeah, trouble in the one-six
Yeah, trouble in the one-six-nine
Trouble in the one-six-nine
Trouble in the one-six-nine
Saying I don't want this
Saying I don't want this life
Saying they don't want this
Saying they don't want this
What kind of man weeps at the feet of his wife in pain
Holds up the pink and shrieking thing and feels the throb of time
What kind of man wraps a cloth around his waist and holds the baby to his chest
Walks through the streets swaying like a drunk in the morning
What kind of man feels the rage of men and only swallows at his daughter's fists
What kind of man bends to hold them in their suffering
In their questions, in their garbled turns of phrase
What kind of man admits his failures, turns over his heavy stones
Stands at the feet of grief and wanting and does not turn away
What kind of man becomes a father
A lasting place
So how am I supposed to sum it up?
Listen, this is what the summer does
And I ain't losing any one of us, a mother's love
Yeah, mother's love
I know it isn't what it is, I wish it was
The love is great, yeah
To raise the man that you hate
Growing in the man that you make
Ah, knowing that if you plan your escape
Then the next man is handed his fate
They say that time waits for no man, uh
At least it didn't for my old man
So fuck it, me and the devil used to hold hands
A slow dance through the city, through that cold sand
I'm here all fucking week and ain't got no plans
Was staring back at the reflections of a grown man
Staring back at the reflections of a grown man
Damn, but I don't want to be an old man
compositores: Kwes. - Puma Blue - Loyle Carner - Harvey Grant - Gabriel Stebbing
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