Blowin' Circles In The Wind

Yo

Turn up my headphones

Sometimes, I don't even know if I'm coming or going

(We about to take you there)

ChorusPlease lord let me make it through a day without no pain

How can I make it through the fire when there is no rain?

Send me free stuff dwelling on my sins

Cause you got me blowing circles in the wind

Chorus

Verse 1: Mr GzusI'm high as hell loungin' on my Ralph Lauren sofa

Caught up in this game trying to maintain the quota

Before it's over, gun talk before the gun spark

Survive this long cause of the way I keep my gun cocked

It's so dark, when I delve into my memoirs,

And it's so graphic; I strap myself with my Kevlar

Hand on my gun metal, for all the beef that's unsettled

Sold everything a thug pedalled, I'm just one rebel

Thoughts are through in mind a la Kurt Cobain

Yo, it's slow pain, like *******, flowing through a cold vein

I meet the odds, now I pray to the gods

My niggaz in the yard get dealt some better cards

Made Men's at large, get the **** up ou to f Dodge

Your whole entourage will get hit up with a barrage

My choice weapon, the legacy of my legend

Will still live on, until the day of Armageddon

When I hit the dead end, yo, it's fire on the crucifix

I'm losing it, trying to figure out who's the snitch

I shed blood for my honour, on the street corner

Hotter than a sauna, blazin' *********

Duckin' shots and regroup I buck back, yo

Cause **** that, that's where niggaz be getting snuffed at

Whatever's coming tell me, I'll take i to n the chin

So for every sin, I'm blowing circles in the wind

Verse 2: Antonio Twice ThouI inhale and blow it out

Stress calls, in the Source no doubt

I got steam to blow the top off a pressure cooker

I had a dream; it seems frustration took us

Do I have to grab a gat to touch my fantasy?

Or will I live long enough to have a chance to see

If I can blow the spot, show the world what I got

You know there's a million niggaz thinking just like me

Smokin' on the same weed, livin' on the same named street

With the same fat beats,

and all criminals for ****ing with cracks and heats

We magnets to the dragnet, young, black and got assets

to make a smash like the crash test

Now what's next, lifestyles of the trifle fraudulent

I work hard, my life; it's still hard to get

Interruption from a deep thought, to twist up

Architect, I roll blunts perfect, apex when it's lit up

I can't relax; I'm never calm

No matter what happens, somebody drops the bomb; trying to do me harm

And these street politics got me strapped up

with a .45 stick and a habit on bricks

I pat myself on the chest, to feel a vest

Cause jealousy and envy among my peoples is a mess

Don't playa hate, hate the game

It's all the same; I'm blowing circles 'til I'm blowing flames

Ain't nothing changed

Chorus continues in background

Where my thugs at? (Made Men) x5