lirik lagu currency slaves – mychelle lee
[verse 1: mych-lle lee]
dead broke with 4 quarters in the bank
a daughter that’s sick and everyday she screams pain
rents around the corner, ain’t got a clue how i’mma pay
‘cuz the job is long gone, the boss lied to my face
i’m walking outside to find my car is gettin’ repoed
life is throwing bricks, like a center shootin free-throws
you can’t pause at all, ‘cuz in this game it ain’t no cheat codes
so what am i to do with all this weighing on my soul
yea i need that bread, yo that guap, yo that let us
give you what you need, no price for ya serve us
spit it up, count it up, and forfeit the in trust
‘cuz it’s all good, blood stained like a crissed crossed
give me that evil root
with a side of forbidden
fruits of my labor
and a cup of lies straight spillin
on the floor, who you call ghostbusters? nah pimpin
final round, sec 3, no jordan, all pippen
‘cuz i got bills, try to pay it wit my deal
got a baby on the way and the rents in the hills
came alive with the music that i spit on these wheels
but the change don’t change the jingle of what’s real
so i’m doing anything for some cheddar that’s sharp
going ham between the rye and serve it up in a box
you can’t tell me, that it ain’t get rich or dye tryin’
‘cuz i’d rather have the bread, than to hear my baby cryin’
[verse 2: mych-lle lee]
my last resort i parked my b-tt between the pews
p-ssin the offering plate got me calculating moves
the deacon got a range and the pastor’s riding bentley’s
but i can’t get a hand to help me turn 10 into twenty?
man i don’t understand it
a break is all i’m askin
a better way than suitin up witout bullets and masking
i know my thinkings rash but my situations dire
and for every sign for hire there’s a paper that’s required
in an office full of liars
decorated with the signs
that reads, your futures here but only to the highest buyer
concerned with stats and numbers than the scholarly connudrum
they won’t care about us ’til mr. jackson wakes his son up
sunset to sun up
bussin it til my ones up
story of my life
sidelined after the come up/
phone ringing off the hook
look lady i ain got it
if u want it come n get it
come take the lent from out my pocket/
i’m eyeing at the plate
‘cuz decisions i gotta make em
i’m stealing from my maker ‘cuz i can’t afford to praise him
the angel on my left is tellin me that it’s a problem
and the devil on my right is tellin me that this’ll solve em
i grab it as it comes staring at it with blurry eyes
stick my hand in to give, pretending but it’s denied
glancing over my shoulder at the hand that’s holdin mine
he handed me keys n a check and said that it’s fine
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