THE HARD ROAD LYRICSRECAPTURING THE VIBE(M. Francis) Produced by Suffa for Suffering City Productions. Written and performed by D. Scratches by DJ Debris. What made you want to look up hard road? Please tell us where you read or heard it (including the quote, if possible). Lyrics to 'Hard Road' song by BLACK SABBATH: Old men crying, young men dying World still turns as Father Time looks on On and on Children play. Barba is an associate professor at The George Washington University in Washington, D.C. Send your story to [email protected]. We are a UK (Dorset) based production team with various projects coming out in 2015 onwards. Recently sold homes and property information for Hard Road, Columbus, OH, 43235. Find info on local real estate trends, recently sold homes, property records, comparable homes, and house values. Verse 1: Pressure. It’s the next chapter, where’s all my head at? You slept at the fact that we crept back to,Set factors straight, the only dead rappers,Are penned at the papes of no cred actors,Those haters, no you don’t faze us,Cos you don’t know shit so, you’re on a need to know basis,And those gracious folk with no status,I made this flow for you, no your own name is,Not a part of the bigger picture, listen it’s the,Middle finger that you put up in a fixture,Life’s a bitch and it’ll hit you,If I could pimp women like I do words I’d be living literature,Hip Hop’s a circus act this is absurd but fact,One critic or cynic for every that learned to rap,One lyric with gimmick for every with purpose that,Furthered rap culture round the earth and back,But some diss but when I’m up in your face,You’re a man of your word; you got nothing to say,I got respect for the scene and love for the place,Where I bled for my dreams and struggled for change,We’re still striving on, we’re still alive and strong,Right or wrong I’d still kill for where I belong,Insightful on the real deal when I write a song,Question, you still feel the vibe I’m on? Verse 2: Suffa. I’ll have the whole crowd like, oh shit, that’s right I said it,I’ll be like, da, dala, da, da, roll like the credits,Two of the best to ever edit poetics,It be the three headed beast from Obese come to set it,Off, Hilltop in the place, sir just calm down,Spit fire on stage and burn your bar down,You hear it bumping in clubs you turn your car round,You hear it pumping in pubs you buy the bar a round,Pump it up in your car; turn your car into a club,Smash through the wall of a pub and burn the bar down,Just burn the bar down, like a disco inferno,MCs aren’t the only thing we burn though,I’m the arsonist like Rakim is,So ask your kids who the number one artist is,Obese got the mad fucking roster while,Your crew couldn’t even house a foster child,You’re flamboyant like Oscar Wilde, I got to smile,When you panic on stage like you lost a child,Where’s Benny? Benny’s across the road watching Hilltop,Cos they got the flow the hills have still got,The skills, the beats to get nice on,Don’t need drugs, I get a buzz when the mics on,So hit the floods Suffa like it with the lights on,Hilltop, we’re what’s left when the vibe’s gone. CLOWN PRINCE(M. Francis) Produced by Debris for Take Away Productions. Written and performed by. M. Scratches by DJ Debris. Contains a sample of . Used courtesy of Virgin Monk Muzic (BMI) and Valley Entertainment Incorporated. Chorus. It’s your round if you’re hanging at the back of the bar,So just bounce like you’re banging in the back of your car,We turn it out, Hilltop; we’ve been down since,Back in the days, I’m the clown prince. It’s your round, if you’re hanging at the back of the bar,So just bounce like you’re banging in the back of your car,We turn it out, Hilltop; we’ve been down since,Back in the days when I was a teenager. Verse 1: Suffa. First up on the dulcet tones of the Gravy Bone Project,Suffa MC came to take you home,I drip lyrics like spit, spit lyrics like drips,Into arms I’ll lick your spirit with my miracle whip,Whip, cos what I’m hearing’s all shit on the lyrical tip,Nah I aint feeling you kid, we gave you,Something to jock, but it wasn’t no thing,Like Bobby gave Whitney a rock but it wasn’t no ring,And I’m a keep at em, crossing my fingers that Eve,Says keep Adam, I’m going down on Louise,And I’m a wreak havoc, little man with a big pen,I got dirty habits like a nun in a pig pen,Like drinking, smoking, cursing, sucking,Titties, representing the city that I grew up in,We laid the path so you got a way in,It’s Hilltop; we’re three stars like a Holiday Inn. Chorus. It’s your round if you’re hanging at the back of the bar,So just bounce like you’re banging in the back of your car,We turn it out, Hilltop; we’ve been down since,Back in the days, I’m the clown prince. It’s your round if you’re hanging at the back of the bar,So just bounce like you’re banging in the back of your car,We turn it out, Hilltop; we’ve been down since,Back in the days when I was a teenager. Verse 2: Pressure. Next up, when I get loose with no fail,Appealing like the naked truth and the truth is for sale,So when I leave yo, you’re fucking with my pride I don’t see though,Typical MC, my nuts don’t match the size of my ego,I seize an opportunity cos they don’t linger,The glass aint half empty its half full that why I’m a table drinker,Think you’re on Pressures level? Only thing tight bro,That you might show is dressed in several of your wife’s clothes,An arrogant fucker damaging suckers masterfully,If I married your mother you still wouldn’t be half of me,You should run from me, fuck battling aint nothing sweet,Cos I won’t beat you to the punch I’ll punch you to the beat,Don’t get offended by the rubbish that we pump in the street,My foots always in my mouth I just cant stomach defeat,I’m a master these until it’s hard to breathe,Its Hilltop, we’re the first to come last to leave. Chorus. It’s your round if you’re hanging at the back of the bar,So just bounce like you’re banging in the back of your car,We turn it out, Hilltop; we’ve been down since,Back in the days, I’m the clown prince. It’s your round if you’re hanging at the back of the bar,So just bounce like you’re banging in the back of your car,We turn it out, Hilltop; we’ve been down since,Back in the days when I was a teenager. Verse 3: Suffa and Pressure. I’m smooth like Marlon Brando at thirty,At my peak like Marlon Brando at fifty,And I’m fat like Marlon Brando at seventy,Fuck it; no MC could ever better me,And half the time half my crew could drink the bar,And half these cats aint half of what they think they are,We independent, I’d sign on the line,The day me giving you the finger is a sign of the times,Their rhymes are designed to try diss us, but why diss us? I don’t rewind to try to find disses,Man, I just recline and mind my business,And I think in lines in rhymes, the rhyme stitches,Up the minds of the lines of dimes and fine. Francis) Produced by Suffa for Suffering City Productions. Written and performed by M. Scratches by DJ Debris. Contains a sample of . Used courtesy of Universal Music. Verse 1: Suffa. Growing up I needed a guide like, a blind veteran’s dog,Cos I was going nowhere like a child’s letters to god,Though life’s road was hard I was never so lost,That I looked for an answer in a medicine box,I never did pop pills, or cop deals, just rocked hills,Kids with skills, still got harassed by the cops till,They’d have me in the back of a paddy, down to lock up,Smack me, pat me down for a baggy, moms would rock up,And bail me out, a failure out once again,Next weekend, bail me out, drunk again,And I never will forgive myself, for putting you through all that hell,I went from high school dropout to factory labourer,Slave to the clock until four, went from sleeping on the floor,To being out on tour, now no stopping me,I’ll finish with a bang like Kurt Cobains biography. Chorus. Going down a hard road, down the hard road,Don’t know where I’ve been. And don’t know where to go its like,Going down a hard road, down the hard road,Don’t know where I’ve been. Verse 2: Pressure. I spent my youth like life was cheap,The only change that I wanted was enough to buy a drink,Was on a path to nowhere, the harder the road,The more broken baggage we carry the larger the load,This school drop- out got knocked out, chased by the cops out,Got clout, dumped by my girlfriend and locked out,Been broke and beaten, even chocked at being,A dope mc but never lost hope in dreaming,We used to thrash boosted cars till the engine would fail,If I never had bailed maybe I’d be dead or in jail,And man I got no one else to blame,I thank my family and music for keeping me sane,But that’s the breaks right? Started working late nights,Never seeing daylight, getting paid like a slave might,And I’ve done too many years to miss this for my missus,To have to tell my son he nearly never existed. Chorus. Going down a hard road, down the hard road,Don’t know where I’ve been. And don’t know where to go its like,Going down a hard road, down the hard road,Don’t know where I’ve been,DJ Debris c’mon and break it down like,Verse 3: Suffa. And I speak what I feel in the booth in the spirit of truth,Cos all these kids that I meet man they mirror my youth,And I could have gone the wrong way, the easy option,But I chose to go the long way, the streets are watching,So keep a look out, look up, B- Ballers keep your hook up,Tear a page from my book out, and pull out,Your finger put your foot out and keep a lookout,For what we put out, the brand new flavour for your cookout. Chorus. Going down a hard road, down the hard road,Don’t know where I’ve been. And don’t know where to go its like,Going down a hard road, down the hard road,Don’t know where I’ve been. Francis) Produced by Suffa for Suffering City Productions. Written and performed by D. Scratches by DJ Debris. Verse 1: Pressure. Early morn, train station, aching from the arthritis,This war veteran knows what a hard time is,He needs his pension, dementia and half blind is,The reason he rides the train with no car license,So he boards with an expired ticket has a swipe,Gets a fine cos the change he got don’t add up right,We’re taking about a man who never lived a lavish life,Caught up in the age of computer chips and satellites,A lovely lady boards looking tired and half awake,He smiles, she’s reminds him of his wife that passed away,She says something as she walks right past his way,His old hearing aid don’t last quite half a day,Some young gentlemen alive with their laughter,Approach the old timer and put a knife to his heart to,Explain that money or bloods the price of their barter,To a man whose friends probably died for their fathers.
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