[intro]
Hay kunzima
(x8)
[verse 1]
I need a parachute so I could land feet first
(On the truth)
The homies rather see me score, I don't bother tell about my goals
(No no no)
Rather tell em "uban ban just called" rather than my destiny or God
Never tell that I met a curatrix, told me that my broken heart is a puzzle
I'm breathing through the cracks of the system and we rebel rebel through the rubble
Boy, we're underground we're the geezers running from the cops
But the groundview's kind of really high
I spread love on both sides of the bread
As I let life go as far as it plans
Look I'm 21 supposed to be looking for a job
Ipressure indenzela once cause I don't wanna be controlled
I'm an undergraduate all about acquiring the sk**s
But isgela sinzima..
That's why aphe Ntsane kufiwa (*2)
We got bigger problems, make us wanna dig your pockets or your own grave
A wise man told a young man that a sharp mind is a sword
It sounded scary as a second chance (*2)
Told me people never see light the same time like the whole planets
[hook]
Hay kunzima
(x8)
PLACARDS OR PLATINUM PLAQUES AND THE PAPER?
EXASPERATED SO I SOUND LIKE A HATER
I'M SORRY BUT I AM NOT SORRY
THE SORES IN MY SOUL GOT ME FEELING HOLY
THE MELANIN IS ENLIGHTENING
THE SUN SHINING AS MY MIND IS
I'M AS UNDERGROUND AS THE GEEZERS RUNNING FROM THE COPS
BUD, THE GROUNDVIEW'S KIND OF REALLY HIGH
[verse 2]
I'm pushing everybody out cause I'm trying to make room for improvement
See, the paper pabbles when my palm pick the pen
p**y is my escape plan
So I'm holding this bottle to bottle up my emotions
The bottom of the bottle got me feeling baptized
Baptized..
But I never ever turned to d**
And I think I really got it figured out...
It's just crystal meth and antics or some math and tactics
"Ina acuse!" but they never tell you bout the consequences
I had a sip of the juice, made from the forbidden fruit
I can see the naked truth
Everybody got something to lose if it's not fortune then it must be you
Kunzima kwa 3..
The doors don't have any keys
If you dance with the devil
Whistle whistle for a rhythm
Acuse.. Kunzima kwa 3
Are we born to die without living or leaving anything for our children?
See, I'm fingerpicking, fingerf**ing
Hold the pen like I used to hold the grudges
When p**y was pleasure
But now it's just pressure and blessers and (pampers) the purpose is *Dololo
So many cats in the mouse trap, think they need to budget 'fore they earn respect
I followed my heart now I feel like a stalker
I'm stuck in my ways, it's no accident