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jakob x jack the spitter - it's personal كلمات الأغنية

[verse 1: jakob]
open up just like a sad arise
heard you’re blowing guys
naw that sh-ts the past
like god its just a d-mn lie
setting up for tears
while writing lyrics with meaning
only making records
when i’m either drunk or just leanin’
i’ve seen it
the failure set up for death
i’d rather choke then spit
up whats hanging on my last breath
like i’m stupid or something
fall in love with a stranger
anyone that showed me love
would give me l-st for a wager
i’m saved
taking faith from every virgin
while they look and cut deeper
like they some kind of surgeon
take your vitamins
barely breathing oxygen
lady liberty benjamin’s
no one ever said i was a minuteman
like my money never been fake
raking up the dough
smoking spirits
like i’m james blake
for god sake
take a f-cking beer or two
cancel all my interviews
so i can find a nice lady to skrew
over and over
like my neck in a noose
i’m thinking wiser
i’m happy when my minds on the booze
hope i get on the news
cause i win, never lose
i just hope my presence
is the day that i rue
brew

[verse 1: jack the spitter]
i’m living in a era where real presence no longer present
i’m tryina be bigger than music that’s represented
they trying sugar coat all the messages they never meant and
i’m trying to stand behind something, or something, no regression
no fake step, no slave ship, my sh-t’s all in my brain
blow it all onto this microphone, never blow it all for fame
i be blowing b-tches past with a new name
hope they never see my face again until it’s plate on a chain
claiming, rap game is over, i’m the only artist even playing
and i ain’t saying, that i hated on em, that’s just the work
if they played they song then they’d go berserk
f-cking dope sh-t, with a tidal twerk
team, on the f-cking porch, dreams of owning acres
i’m not the fiend you been hearing of, they chill with drea, olekers
ugh, i make papers, like midterms
and sh-t burn my lungs because this paper is layered
with illegal substance, hope i can’t get faderred b-tches
biggest lie ever told minus, “i’ll talk to ya later spitter”
leaders lead the leechers, leaches lean toward submission
lucky i don’t got a pretty mouth, they always hate the spitting

[verse 3: jakob]
kinky wh0r-s in their get ups
call the tow when i pick up
every drunk on the liqa
its simpla and more similar
just never take it
for granted i’d stay
if i hadn’t known the wh0r-
you were when you played me
drugs to escape
from the pain that i’ve waste
still smoking cause
i’m tryna erase what i’ve faced
and now i’m digging
deeper through the sh-t that i’ve said
500 days of bitter
sweet days we never met
stop
pause for a minute
i need to catch my breath
cause my vision is so vivid
still remember when we kissed
now you’re just a b-tch
like now i’m straight lynching
forget it when i’m getting rich
smoking blunts after s-x
ashin out the rest
of my memories canceling
my flight out to northwest
and now i’m leaving the best
cause when this fire is burnin
my heart is pounding
smoother than the hamptin
hope i c-m on their sheets
and i ain’t giving two sh-ts
when you file the papers
hope it taste like her cl-t

- jakob x jack the spitter

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