[Chorus: Chris Brown] If these walls could speak, I wouldn't have to make believe you're here, Holy angel, just stop the fire that burns in me, I need a savior ‘cause I'm scared of me. [Verse 1: Chris Brown] I done been through hell and back I'm seein' demons everyday, callin' me Kettle Black, Perfectionists, if you're perfect, where your medal at? My life way goin' downhill, I had to pedal back, These niggas always wanna talk about the lame shit. If I looked back on my life, I wouldn't change shit, Maybe a couple more cars so I can lane switch, If I put that mic on silence and never sang shit, This my life and this your job, dawg. I'm too hot, got me thinkin' did the clouds fall? Probably not. Shit just put me back up in the bleachers, Back when all a nigga had was a pair of sneakers, All this stress on my chest, I'm fuckin' havin' seizures, Nowadays havin' fun is fuckin' illegal. Walkin' with your head down, that's not grown man shit, I'm takin' over the game until I own that bitch, Yeah, nigga in my hood them choppers always bustin', Niggas livin' day to day like tomorrow ain't nothing. Fuck love, that shit get in the way now, She lovin' every nigga ass up and face down, Addicted to the game, my youngins use a .38, first 48, They gon' throw that shit away, bet they never catch a case. I'm gon' separate myself from all the lames, If I die and float away, you gon' feel my mama pain, Sittin' in my room, I'm reminiscin', Shit, I ain't have a pot to piss in, Family whippin' crack up in the kitchen, All eyes on me, so pay attention. Got a problem with the DA, shoulda stayed my ass in VA, Thousand hours some bull, pickin' trash up off the freeway, I'm the nigga that the kids lookin' up to, Straight A's now, before they say "Fuck school", Ha, and I don't bite my tongue for no weak nigga ‘Cause y'all never had to starve for a week, nigga! No clothes but .44 to a household, Stomach growlin' but I kept my fuckin' mouth closed. [Chorus: Chris Brown] If these walls could speak, I wouldn't have to make believe you're here, Holy angel, just stop the fire that burns in me, I need a savior ‘cause I'm scared of me. [Verse 2: Pusha T] Came in the game thinkin' music was the way out To get us off the corners, hit records was the payout, Hard transitionin' from hustlin' 'til it's grey out, A decade with the devil, lemme show you how this play out. Started as a duo, didn't stay a duo, Things fall apart, Ricky Martin left Menudo, Was a team of us, everything was for the crew, though, Never Rosé while my niggas sippin' Nuvo. So-so records bought more dope, Every record label dollar went to more coke, Ghetto rich but still scramblin' like we poor folks, We was all goin' left from what the Lord taught. The pressure, my pride wouldn't let up, The way they took my niggas had us thinkin' we was set up All at once, so the pain hardly let up, Now this bitch mumblin' 'round the house about she fed up. Yughh, when it rains, it pours, nigga, Dope boys expect the money, hungry whore, nigga. Woo! With my niggas and the feds, Do you think I give a fuck if Def Jam is in the red? They'll undership your record while they pillow talk in bed, So I never try to talk them mothafuckas off the ledge. "Jump, nigga!" like Joe Clark said, If you ain't tryna win then, you better off dead. Gone. [Chorus: Chris Brown] If these walls could speak, I wouldn't have to make believe you're here, Holy angel, just stop the fire that burns in me, I need a savior ‘cause I'm scared of me.
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