Songtext zu 'Sistanem' von J.I.D
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Cole, you stupid
Look, you told me never let this get a hold of me
You hate to see me hurt, you wanna hurt someone for me
Way too down to earth, don't do no dirt for me, please
I don't need nobody else takin' a deal or a plea
God knowin' what I'm doin', he gon' deal with me
Niggas ain't cut like that, she'll kill for me
And I don't care if we don't speak for like a million weeks
You right there when I need you but I know these ain't your kind of people
I finally bought a home to raise my family
I'm done with all the hoes and they anatomiеs
I tried to call your phone again, you said, "it wasn't on"
And by the timе you got my letter, I was long gone
Back on the road, gone with the wind blows
Packin' the shows, hoes and the nymphos, platinum and gold
You know how this shit go when family's gone
You don't know what you here for, uh
Just remember, remember who I am
Mommies, daughters, models, callers
Ballers, fathers, all have fallen
Mommies, daughters, models, callers
Ballers, fathers, all have fallen
Look, you said I shouldn't worry 'bout the fame
You seem to be concerned of what you heard about the game
'Cause soon as niggas get a little change, niggas change
And playin' with the lord's name, sayin' it in vain
You heard this song and said I did the same thing
You seein' somethin' different in my eyes, and she emphasized
And I ain't get it at the time, I couldn't listen
Had to call her back, line packed, sold out tickets
I'm on the wrong track, road back, fuck it, I'm hittin' it
On the road, I'ma bulldoze the globe for the dough
She know she happy that we doin' better than before
As long as I'm sellin' shows, you ain't sellin' for your soul
I felt like she was yellin' like azealia in that megaphone
Said, "I'ma hit you in the mornin', keep your message on"
I did my set then sat alone for a second by myself
Asked questions, choices, destination, courses
Highways, routes, royces rollin' voices
Goin' on and on and on, it's noisy
I'm not the only one affected by the poison in the mind
And the lifestyle that shine from the iced-out diamonds
That combine with misogynistic mindsets
Dialect from slave, diatribe, they tryna dissect to re-digest
I tossed that mindset overboard like an object
I'm tryna find a letter to the lord from the projects
'Cause when I was a boy, I didn't know that we was poor
And now I'm on tour, I got a moment to explore
And show my niggas somethin' we ain't never seen before
Open doors, so you know I'm goin'
Back on the road, gone with the wind blows
Packin' the shows, hoes and the nymphos, platinum and gold
You know how this shit go when family's gone
You don't know what you here for, uh
Just remember, remember who I am
Mommies, daughters, models, callers
Ballers, fathers, all have fallen
Mommies, daughters, models, callers
Ballers, fathers, all have fallen
Why do I get so damn high that I can't feel my face?
Try and try to free my mind, but I can't find a way
Why do I get so damn high that I can't feel my face?
Try and try to free my mind, but I can't find a way
Look, I never gave that much a fuck about this shit
To let it challenge my integrity
But you questionin' me, got me thinkin' you thinkin' less of me
The lesson in this shit is we should talk face to face, fuck the messagin'
Meet me in the flesh and you can see that I'm still lil' destin
Lil' brubbie, lil' bb, bald head as a baby in the huggies
Stunt like my dad, I'm a druggie
Money in my hands but it's bloody
Try to understand if you love me, ayy
Make plans, we can roll like the old days
Facetime call came with a stone-cold face
We don't talk often, when we do, it's an, "are you okay?"
Somebody fuckin' with you? I'm on the way
It's on the waist, I can tell the way you look, that ain't the case
Figured you was mad at me when you said you need a break from the family
And you not participatin' in no pagan holiday gatherings
And ever since I start rappin', I ain't never in atlanta too long
And I hate havin' to only see the family when somethin' bad happen
Like when granny passed, I ain't wanna answer the phone
Writin' in my pad, hope I don't remember this wrong
Last time I seen you, we was sendin' her home
October, November, December was gone
But on the 25th, we gotta be there for mom
I'm talkin' to you now, but can I see you tomorrow?
I could be on the way soon as I finish this song
So you can see I'm still true in everything that I been doin'
And I don't fuck with the devil but I know he pursuin'
And I know that Jesus died, thirty-three, like ewing
And he prolly did the same shit that we like doin'
I know you got to feel the animosity brewin'
It's gettin' bad and I'm sad our relationship ruined over some trash, but it's past that
Send me all the money that I gave you over cashapp back since you actin' as if you—
We're sorry, you have reached a number that is— (aw)
That's fucked up (that's fucked, that's fucked, man, that's right)
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