lirik lagu carefree (the beatnikz remix) – c-rayz walz
c-rayz walz ft. jeanine – “carefree (the beatnikz remix)”
[emcee(s): c-rayz walz]
[producer(s): the beatnikz (frank blank and lil jay)]
[additional vocals: khiladi]
[hook/vocals: jeanine]
[intro: c-rayz walz]
confucius say, “man who likes sun cycle always get moon-burnt.” hehehe. yo, speaking of burnt…
[hook 1 (overlapped with hook 2): c-rayz walz]
the fashion of the p-ssion was realer than real
life was lovely, except what i can’t feel. miss you
hope all is well with you. need to talk to you, hold your
hand and walk with you. of course it’s you. holler
back however. hope all is well. for heaven’s
sake, i just went through h-ll. i’m at the gates
the fashion of the p-ssion was realer than real
life was lovely, except what i can’t feel
[hook 2 (overlapped with hook 1): jeanine] (x2)
whatever you want
whatever you need
whatever you need
i’ll be waiting
[verse 1: c-rayz walz]
comprehend
the page, extensive blades. i know you afraid
but front harder than mike’s lemonade, they say, “when a
man hold his feelings, that’s how you get t-tties to form,” but out of
raw talent, my son was born. sour
“grapes of wrath” never laugh, get old and sad, start to
whine/wine when they get pressed for time, define smash
without an essence, esoteric example of -ss. you’ll be
stuck in the past. you get it? (yeah, that’s some sh-t, yo). unfinished
routes of the in and outs left a bitter taste in your doubt
guinness stout mouth or timid house is where the lion sleeps
s-x sells. free nights and weekends is my next tale/nextel
if lines beep, then wait to exhale. a better
chance to fail if you lie and cheat. heads or tails, your conscious
gets to walking. both options’ll drop you off in a coffin
coughing in the winter with pneumonia and the flu. i got
the chaka khan chronic—god, “i feel for you” (i feel for you)
[hook 1 (overlapped with hook 2): c-rayz walz]
the fashion of the p-ssion was realer than real
life was lovely, except what i can’t feel. miss you
hope all is well with you. need to talk to you, hold your
hand and walk with you. of course it’s you. holler
back however. hope all is well. for heaven’s
sake, i just went through h-ll. i’m at the gates
the fashion of the p-ssion was realer than real
life was lovely, except what i can’t feel
[hook 2 (overlapped with hook 1): jeanine] (x2)
whatever you want
whatever you need
whatever you need
i’ll be waiting
[verse 2: c-rayz walz]
for my
spanish fly k!llers, living la vida l-st, a china
brush touched, designed your nuts with cups and crust (i took)
(mine when i realized) that’s a good look. twenty bucks? that
a piff sack attack for both of us, plus we in love
on some g-y sh-t—not literally. yeah
ma, if you that sh-t, then i’m that kid physically. it
“rains forever” when it pours (hey). the problems is formed
(you ain’t peeped it?) they even plaque with plastic in p-rn. bad
things come and go. good things come to those who wait. life’s
a test, depending on the one that you take. use your
brakes, stop, go. the return i came before. y’all ain’t
swallowed. this is the second coming—digest hollow points
follow the power of suggestion, turn into
an answer. hope is not confession. waiting to ex-
-hale, don’t hold your breath. something like
having your first baby—you’re that close to death
[hook 1 (overlapped with hook 2): c-rayz walz]
the fashion of the p-ssion was realer than real
life was lovely, except what i can’t feel. miss you
hope all is well with you. need to talk to you, hold your
hand and walk with you. of course it’s you. holler
back however. hope all is well. for heaven’s
sake, i just went through h-ll. i’m at the gates
the fashion of the p-ssion was realer than real
life was lovely, except what i can’t feel
[hook 2 (overlapped with hook 1): jeanine] (x2)
whatever you want
whatever you need
whatever you need
i’ll be waiting
[verse 3: c-rayz walz]
i fronted
for years. (i ain’t want to go see the doc). i was
mel gibsoned out, scared of conspiracy shots like
“i don’t give a f-ck.” (“nah, i’m lying”)
“i did. four times this morning.” (“what about)
(that night i was drinking?”) “but…” (“what about the back of my)
(dad’s lincoln?”) “word up, yo. shorty was stinking.” “wait!
remember rhode island with rhonda, robin, and
absinthe?” (“nah, hold up. that seems absent.”) and it’s been, like
twenty-five o’s after thirty-five shows. you know
how it goes: rock star on the road with no clothes
poking holes. tour bus became the poconos
if you don’t smell me, you got a broken nose. thinking who you
boned, you could feel it in your bones. chasing your
past on the phone, paranoid, in the zone. you could be
full-blown like hurricanes h-t your homes. there’s
h-lla pain in your dome, made you feel strange and alone
genital anarchy, penile percolating
a v-g-n-l voyage with a dismal destination
you cry when you born. we cry when you gone. it’s hard
to see the cypher in the eye of the storm. what if
there was flashcards that gave the rules of life? to use
a light in darkness and improve your sight? it’s all
fun and games ‘til it’s not—go ‘head and ‘fess. i know you were
stressed the first time you took your aids test
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