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tsj leolo - a story lyrics
verse 1:
every morning, mothers are mourning. i was raised by a single mother; i had to be my own man. is it a bad omen? people apologize, but barely recognize the pain they’ve caused. the game we lost… it’s safe to say this life we’re living in is meant for four options: either die or win, pray or sin. i’ve got the pen in my hand, reminiscing about what are the most painful words. and these guys are saying, “heartbreak, it’s over”… are those painful words? but really, you think this sh_t is misery, and to be honest, y’all ain’t got no open mind. imagine hearing voices saying, “depart from me.” just think about it… in this modern world we’re living in, women are invisible when they ain’t beautiful, and men are visible when they’re successful. and politicians using poverty to get some votes… keep in mind that no girl wants a broke n_gga, but no mother wants a dead son. bodies drop for the blood shots; sounds louder than punk rock. the world’s ending; keep your guns c_cked. family dies, and that’s blood loss. money theft causes unrest. south africa’s a corrupt mess. whichever president we trust next needs a lie detector and a blood test… and they’re doing sh_t that’ll never last. they’re using empty promises right in mandela’s name… kemfana soweto, i’m here to change the game. these people got no jobs; the government’s to blame. they’re eating money, “palaphala”… all i see is unemployment rates. all they do is just delay updates; no jobs, no work… that sh_t will never change
verse 2:
i’m smoking every day because i’m trying to ease the pain. and i remember sitting in that cell, claiming i’m a thug. you came and showed me love… these days, i’m feeling like you’re just my drug. and i didn’t give you my heart, but i feel like you’ve just torn it apart
verse 3:
now, let me tell you a story about a shawty i met in pretoria… wababa ke chipi, she’s hot fire. the b_tch was rocking some designers; she was my desire… ke ngwana strata. ka meetsa rathoma dithaba for nna otlo selatla, a re wanrata. when i’m thinking about it, sh_t is in the past; please don’t ask. and when i’m thinking about it, it’s another tragedy
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