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Тексты песен на английском, аккорды, табулатуры, гитара, Texts of songs, the song text, chords, notes
Тексты песен на английском, аккорды, табулатуры, гитара, Texts of songs, the song text, chords, notes » O » O.C
Story To Tell - текст песни



Story To Tell


[O.C.]


Yo, born May 13th 'round seventy-one


Vietnam was a memory before my birth


Around the time Nicky Barnes era came to a close


Too young to know yet, poppa told me later on


The place was Brook-nam, BK, NY City


Lovechild through a bond was me, so evidently


the sperm the egg joined in between my mama loins


coulda been heads or tails like, flippin a coin


Pops pull out of you here, wouldn't exist at all


If mama eggs wasn't fertile wouldn't exist at all


The creator gave a nod, I'm a gift to all


Spring child like a flower, not born in the fall


Fam came from the South but I was reared up North


Portuguese grandmother, never met her before


Pops say, I'm a mirror image of my grandpa


All I say is strong genes be the only answer




[O.C.]


Yo, ever since I was a kid I was popular


Seein my future through a pair of binoculars


From the age of single digits up until my pre-teens


Always had big dreams in mind, at the time


So young, I didn't know my callin would be a rhyme


Years later manifested in the form of a song (Texts of songs )


Playin football, quarterback, O had a arm


Two-hand touch, picture receiver goin long


A young black version of Terry Bradshaw


Older niggaz on the block attention I captured


Miraculous moves, maneuver with the ball in my palm


Precise throwin first downs, hand-offs and throwin bombs


Young Don, felt like Juan


Girls would flirt but I didn't know how to respond


Always knowin growin up I'd be a pro and not a con


Brother from another mother locked up since eighty-one




[O.C.]


Yo - I'm still a young dude, at the same time grown


Baby boy to my momma, the youngest of four


My life's no fairytale, can't call me Cinder-fella


Though life be like rain, my thoughts the umbrella


O, got it covered it's a gift not a talent


Bein bougie or corn-chip, I simply won't allow it


My aura's like, well, it's hard to describe


Let me just say I'm on the serious side


Learned lessons from my hood that I dwelled in, resided


Had my share of gettin drunk as fuck and gettin potted


Gun in my waist, if I pull it bet I pop it


Mush my nickname from a cousin I adopted


Mic the legacy's on me, I got this


Reppin when I holla, won't misuse or mock it


The word spoken is truth; the labor that I put my momma through


'til now, to her I made a promise to



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