Rent's Due Songtext
Paper in my pocket like the rent’s due
Weapon on my waist ain’t a sword
It’s a pencil
Don’t shoot
Eyes red, I think the trees loud
See sun rise like 7: 30
His eyes red because the start
Late, the finish early
Up again at 5
For the same service
He said he came to clean up
Now he’s stuck cleaning
Couldn’t blame your boy for american dreaming
Daughter needs braces
Sons still teething
Oldest out in uni
And the wife might
Leave him
I think the boy stressed out
Faithless
Can’t get no sleep now
Selfish
Might pray for peace now
Spent nights in stu
And his days up in retail
Still working
Little blood and sweat won’t hurt him
Money made the boy feel worthless
Man made the money
For your soul was it worth it
Ain’t the truth what you ready for
My brothers think they
Kobe with the loot
Ballotelli with the boot
Don’t shoot
The messenger
Don’t shoot
The man in the middle of your scope
Cobain with the bullet to his dome
The man with his eyes on the throne
A crown and a lump in my throat
The lady with the melanin like coal
Don't shoot
The pound. The penny
The food. The belly
And I'm still bout' my paper
Don’t take much to get your pockets on fold
I’m after everything, taking what’s mine and what’s
Owed. Banging hours on the graveyard shift
Laced up to the tongue with big sealed lips
There’s no telling
What the desperate might do
Survival is the least of my problems
I don't want to share my options with you
A penny for your thoughts won't solve them
My skeleton born where weapons were drawn
Like graffiti on walls we'd often pass after school
The older's work what the youngers would do
At age 12 a 4 5 could make a man out you
Back out with foxes
Moving baggies and boxes
When they teach you respect
They don't leave you no options
They don't teach you to grow, sow the
Weeds just to crop them
Didn't know we were seeds
Came back where you dropped us
Oh he must be
Another man living like he death proof
Screaming Paper in my pocket like the rents due
Serving sense to less than innocent citizens
To see kind of money that bankers spend on heroin
The estate been real. Hide the money in the houses
Bills looking like measurements in ounces
Need more change than couches
Boxes over accountants
Shoulders feel like mountains. weight
Heart racing. pavement pounding
There's never been an escape from this
Called trapping for a reason
Testing times, Taxed by a system we don't believe in
Beg pardon and hold your grievance
You ever had to sleep through the sound of your mother grieving
These smiles can be so deceiving
We don't need another preacher
We don’t need another teacher
Need all it all in an instant
And school makes you feel useless but
You could a flip a gram without a test to prove it
And the product come in ten out a ten
But you already made a promise to never do that again
Because your brother went from 8 to life in the pen
Lard a' mercy, upon the soul of a sinner
I’ve been dining with killers
Blood of jesus in my liver hell's fire in on my tongue
Head spinning stress pains in my lungs - no guidance
Just cycles of senseless violence
There's no winners on the road life. Prison system looking at black youth
Like a gold mine -
Youngers getting facety, grafting
Just to take a j bag to J.D it don't make sense
Trappers think their gallis till she trap with a baby
I don't want that life for mine. Nor me and my niggas
These thoughts feel like cages
Victories are tainted
Magistrates and statements
Testing on my patiences
Assume it's a phases and a better life's waiting
But reality cheques don't pay wages
Fuck em’
Paper in my pocket like the rent’s due
Weapon on my waist ain’t a sword [help me write these wrongs]
It’s a pencil
Don’t shoot
Weapon on my waist ain’t a sword
Don’t shoot
Weapon on my waist ain’t a sword
It’s a pencil
Don’t shoot
Eyes red, I think the trees loud
See sun rise like 7: 30
His eyes red because the start
Late, the finish early
Up again at 5
For the same service
He said he came to clean up
Now he’s stuck cleaning
Couldn’t blame your boy for american dreaming
Daughter needs braces
Sons still teething
Oldest out in uni
And the wife might
Leave him
I think the boy stressed out
Faithless
Can’t get no sleep now
Selfish
Might pray for peace now
Spent nights in stu
And his days up in retail
Still working
Little blood and sweat won’t hurt him
Money made the boy feel worthless
Man made the money
For your soul was it worth it
Ain’t the truth what you ready for
My brothers think they
Kobe with the loot
Ballotelli with the boot
Don’t shoot
The messenger
Don’t shoot
The man in the middle of your scope
Cobain with the bullet to his dome
The man with his eyes on the throne
A crown and a lump in my throat
The lady with the melanin like coal
Don't shoot
The pound. The penny
The food. The belly
And I'm still bout' my paper
Don’t take much to get your pockets on fold
I’m after everything, taking what’s mine and what’s
Owed. Banging hours on the graveyard shift
Laced up to the tongue with big sealed lips
There’s no telling
What the desperate might do
Survival is the least of my problems
I don't want to share my options with you
A penny for your thoughts won't solve them
My skeleton born where weapons were drawn
Like graffiti on walls we'd often pass after school
The older's work what the youngers would do
At age 12 a 4 5 could make a man out you
Back out with foxes
Moving baggies and boxes
When they teach you respect
They don't leave you no options
They don't teach you to grow, sow the
Weeds just to crop them
Didn't know we were seeds
Came back where you dropped us
Oh he must be
Another man living like he death proof
Screaming Paper in my pocket like the rents due
Serving sense to less than innocent citizens
To see kind of money that bankers spend on heroin
The estate been real. Hide the money in the houses
Bills looking like measurements in ounces
Need more change than couches
Boxes over accountants
Shoulders feel like mountains. weight
Heart racing. pavement pounding
There's never been an escape from this
Called trapping for a reason
Testing times, Taxed by a system we don't believe in
Beg pardon and hold your grievance
You ever had to sleep through the sound of your mother grieving
These smiles can be so deceiving
We don't need another preacher
We don’t need another teacher
Need all it all in an instant
And school makes you feel useless but
You could a flip a gram without a test to prove it
And the product come in ten out a ten
But you already made a promise to never do that again
Because your brother went from 8 to life in the pen
Lard a' mercy, upon the soul of a sinner
I’ve been dining with killers
Blood of jesus in my liver hell's fire in on my tongue
Head spinning stress pains in my lungs - no guidance
Just cycles of senseless violence
There's no winners on the road life. Prison system looking at black youth
Like a gold mine -
Youngers getting facety, grafting
Just to take a j bag to J.D it don't make sense
Trappers think their gallis till she trap with a baby
I don't want that life for mine. Nor me and my niggas
These thoughts feel like cages
Victories are tainted
Magistrates and statements
Testing on my patiences
Assume it's a phases and a better life's waiting
But reality cheques don't pay wages
Fuck em’
Paper in my pocket like the rent’s due
Weapon on my waist ain’t a sword [help me write these wrongs]
It’s a pencil
Don’t shoot
Weapon on my waist ain’t a sword
Don’t shoot
Rent's Due Video
