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lirik lagu son of man – nick source

i come from the bottom of the bottom where problems are bottomless
uncommon common sense
cons are the honest men
it’s college from scholarships
or mop like my father did
count every dollar sh*t
that was life’s promises
life becomes tolerant
i can’t just keep it all bottled in
rather start poppin them
rather start profiting
walk with the bible man
no facading or sobbing
got kingdom of god within!
aristocrat
f*ck a privileged cat
let’s go tit for tat
without sh*t to match
big d*ck competition, i win, it’s facts
get a prince surpassed
i live for that
still jackin your private jet
jackin your diamond set
jackin your time piece
jackin your dime piece
this is a threat, no
this is a crime spree
tell all your friendly ass feds to come find me
who know what’s up?
being broke as f*ck
being hated so much think y’all supposed to judge
cold shouldered so much i wouldn’t notice love
never the chosen one
until i chose myself
never hoped for wealth
i’d get exposed to h*ll
and then they close the cell
and i ain’t see sun again
i ain’t see punishment
they’d find me hung in it
that’s what life is when you keep one hundred man
worked trash jobs for trash money
been trapped a crash dummy
snap or react and it’s back to scr*ps, hungry life
story of my f*ckin life
now no one can love me cause i ain’t the money right
thinkin i’m bummy not seein my sunny side
shotty start pumpin
some body get dumped tonight
every b*tch that i done left
i did something right
so i give every dime away
live in a higher place
in my mind i awake
insides a fire escape
pain i can’t find a trace
no one can violate
hate cannot penetrate
death cannot threaten me
stress i can set it free
tension i set it free
aggression i let it leave
ascension is when i breathe
blessed is my destiny
best of the best of me
rest of me rest in peace
stop a trance watch me transform
can’t put them pants on
your b*tch thinks i’m handsome
you know what it takes just make me a grandson
it’s lookin like a ransom
can’t get an advance huh
cause i ain’t lance armstrong, on god
i am the son of man you just a b*tch in a mansion
all of those gimmicks this image is bad for em
y’all really critics who mimic in bad form
get sicker, no limits i’m air born
christ i think i embarrassed them
my belief is in monopolies, so really how could there be a comparison
no competition on a composition
my one honest wish is to cherish songs
yeah
so cherish this

- nick source

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