The Notorious B.I.G. - Everyday Struggle (R.) | Текст песни

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• The Notorious B.I.G.
• Everyday Struggle (R.)

I know how it feels to wake up fucked up
Pockets broke as hell, another rock to sell
People look at you like you're the user
Selling drugs to all the losers mad Buddha abuser
But they don't know about the stress-filled day
Baby on the way mad bills to pay
That's why you drink Tanqueray
So you can reminisce and wish
You wasn't living so devilish s-shit
I remember I was just like you
Smoking blunts with my crew
Flipping oldies 62's
'Cause G-E-D was it B-I-G, I got P-A-I-D
That's why my mom hates me
She was forced to kick me out, no doubt
Then I figured out Nick's went for twenty down south
Packed up my tools for my raw power move
Glock nineteen for casket and flower moves
Four drunks trying to stop my flow
And what they don't know will show on the autopsy
Went to see papi, to cop me a brick
Asked for some consignment and he wasn't trying to hear it
Smoking mad Newports 'cause I'm doing court for an assault
That I caught in Bridge Port, New York
Catch me if you can like the ginger bread man
You better have your gat in hand
'Cause man

I had the master plan
I'm in the caravan on my way to Maryland
With my man Tutex to take over this projects
They call him Tutex, he tote two techs
And when he starts to bust
He likes to ask who's next?
I got my honies on the Amtrack
With the crack in the crack of her ass
Two pounds of hash in the stash
I wait for hun to make some quick cash
I told her she could be lieutenant bitch got gassed
At last I'm literally lounging Black,
Seating back counting double digit thousands stacks
Had to re-up see what's up with my peeps
Toyota dealer cars had it cheap on the jeeps
See who got smoked, what rumors was spread
Last I heard I was dead with six to the head
Then I got the phone call
It couldn't hit me harder
We got infiltrated
Like Nino at the Carter
I heard Tec got murdered in a town I've never heard of
By some bitch named Alberta over nickel-plated burners
And my bitch swear to God she won't snitch
I told her where she hit the bricks I'll make the hooker rich
Conspiracy should be home in three
Until them I look south for the home family
A true G, that's me blowing like a bubble
In the everyday struggle

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