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rusangano family - kierkegaard lyrics
[verse 1 – murli]
the mic’s on this time i better be heard
i met love but she was gonna get hurt
this life choice brought me trouble at church
while i’m still trying to convince my mum that it’s work
stories i thought i couldn’t tell
till i realised lies don’t play fair
so forget it! it’s not a fluke that i made it here
so who the h-ll am i fooling trying to keep it secret
while the prophecy had come true over the past year
but emotions got the better share
heartbreaks of watching my big bro playing pallbearer
rest in peace to the originator
before we came together under the name you struggle to say
i pondered upon the future on a regular day
30 shows later, you could find me doing the same
coz a lot has changed since then but we’re still just getting trained
[verse 2 – god knows]
nowadays every other ten-year-old says to you they’re the best mc
you can’t tell me you’re the best if you don’t know chuck d
while that might make me public enemy number 1, i still got the flavor flav
god gave me favour fave, if you don’t pay we don’t play
if you don’t pay, we don’t play
big man sound haffi come out of my way
on a serious note we don’t make serious notes
so to be a musician was a serious choice
momma didn’t like it, daddy didn’t like it
aunty didn’t like it, uncle didn’t like it
so guess what, history’s made
and we’re still ain’t getting paid
this one’s for the irish crowd
who keep old school like the irish pound
i’m a pro, i make pennies from imro
i can’t lie i can’t even go penneys with this bro
rusangano made waves last year
they cut my dole because of snoop last year
i thought we would be in la by now last year
we met ed sheeran this time last year
gave me and murli real advice last year
got played on bbc later that year
guess what my dad still didn’t care
i’m not a doctor, i’m not a lawyer, to the eyes of my family i’m still a failure
i’m not a preacher, i’m not a pilot, to the eyes of my family i’m still a failure
figure that!
[verse 3 – murli]
i’ve been thinking of a master plan
but all i got is a pen and a mic in my hands
as the indian dance to precipitate the reign
like the ‘agbadja’ dance that spearheaded my name
when i, dropped the call coz the fam’s outside
to pick me up to go play live at lifestyles
where the cork fans met me rocking a dutch wax
got my first sound cheque bought a new watch
mark my time and keep it ticking while i rhyme
to remind myself why, i had to resign
everybody gotta give up something for something else
for better or worse without a chance to rehe-rs-
see, the stage’s too big till you set foot on it
that’s why 90% of my friends still doubt me
how bad a breath can a mouth conceal
and refuse to reveal to the hand that feeds it?
fears of being alone in the days that are dawning
95% of my acquaintances stopped dreaming
i’m guessing they don’t want to die trying, do you?
only my legacy would tell you what i would do
[bridge]
so i heard, it could only make sense backwards
but i got to live it forwards
so they said, it could only make sense backwards
but i got to live it forwards
so they told me, it could only make sense backwards
but i got to live it forwards
and they said, it could only make sense backwards
but i got to live it forwards
[verse 4 – god knows]
growing up my parents never listened to abba
only shabba, mr. lover lover was that number
grew up listening to ragga, spragga benz and bounty k!ller
capleton and ninja man, super cat and lady saw
elephant man, merciless was a baddman
growing up you would have thought i was a yard man
back in secondary school n-body knew wagwaan
just a lickkle ode to the king of the dancehall
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