TSP - Time Keep Moving On lyrics

[Intro] Ay' koka' homie It don't matter how much work you put in to this sh** homie Ya' know There's gonna be some motherf**ers who don't Don't respect that sh** G' You know what I mean n***a's think this sh** came easy homie, ya' know Real n***a testimony Yea-yea' hear that [Chorus] You can go hard You can go home You can give up, give up When things go wrong But I put in work I paid my dues Sometimes you win Sometimes you lose But what {though?} k**er real n***a {will may control?} As times keep moving on [Verse 1: Kokane] If I can identify around pain I'll paint a ugly picture But out of this ugly picture Come victory n***a Now whats popeye the sailor man Without brutus What is jesus christ Without that n***a named judas Where would a n***a be without this pain The type of pain that'll make you blow your brain like Cobain If it had not been for the man up stairs I would be dead or in jail, looped out somewhere Cause I come from a long line of gangstas and macks And most blacks in the hood got a uncle who smoke crack Look back at time shake my head ain't that something Realizing that without god homie we nothing It took a long time for my eyes to be open But better late than never nothing change but the weather I learned a valuble lesson As quickly as you get blessed You can loose your blessing [Chorus] [Verse 2: Kokane] Now remember when I used to be the life of the party Pay the tab at the bar Drinks for everybody n***as that I thought used to be my brothers But when I lost it all Started showing their true colors It went from celebrating a n***a To putting salt on my name All these MCs I bless in this shady rap game Felt humiliated, busted and disgusted The whole worlds laughing at me n***as I trusted But the same satin designed to k** me Is the same thing god use for a n***a victory Rose out of the ashes Putting paint where it ain't Got the family on deck 10 fold in the bank Couldn't thank you scandalous n***as enough Seems odd Because of your wicked ways Brought me closer to god Cause these rap n***as in the game some weirdos Plucking their eyebrows, painting a n***a toes I use to like Boy George records But real n***as don't wear no dresses The game is so vicious n***as take it up the a** to get illuminati rich Some n***as pay dues and some n***as don't The lord is my sheppard and I shall not want He restore my soul For his name sake And yike Do I walk through the valley of the fake [Chorus] [Verse 3: Mitchy Slick] Big wopp from inglewood try to tell me first He said slick hope your ready rappers get it worst When I was just damu'ing it was all church But ever since recognition I'd a felt cursed When I was a crash test dummy They all love me But once the cash got chunky Someone's life f**ed me Cali g**ning rules need to be adjusted The guidelines ain't in favour of the homies bumping They don't understand the industry You can be struggling Just because a n***a got a deal Don't mean he check busting You got a 360 deal, you hungry still Suppose to be on tour n***a i'm {o.t?} with pills I get the chills when I think of how it could of ended On the 4 yard with all my luxuries suspended Cause of some sh** a n***a that suppose to be my friend did For all the homies who didn't get the memo i did Trill [Chorus] [Outro] As time keeps moving on A real n***a gotta stay strong Wooh, wooh, woo, woo, woo