
Radio Daze The Roots (Ft. Blu, Dice Raw & Greg Porn)
На этой странице вы найдете полный текст песни "Radio Daze" от The Roots (Ft. Blu, Dice Raw & Greg Porn). Lyrxo предлагает вам самый полный и точный текст этой композиции без лишних отвлекающих факторов. Узнайте все куплеты и припев, чтобы лучше понять любимую песню и насладиться ею в полной мере. Идеально для фанатов и всех, кто ценит качественную музыку.

[Hook: Dice Raw]
And the radio daze kept us in the dark
And the satellite age brings us to the light
Some feeling the pinch, some feeling the bite
They ain't ready to talk, they're ready to fight
Never leave you alone (Never, I never leave you alone)
(Never, I never leave you alone)
Never leave you alone (Never, I never leave you alone)
(Never, I never leave you alone)
[Veres 1: Blu]
Yo, so what you searching for?
From birth, born hurting and yearning for certain somethings
Lurking and murk 'em, got 'em turning this
Bed into a coffin, burning over passions in this passion
Or more or less over what the pastor passed us
Cause see, the past tense, it never really passes
Phases that trap us and cage us like classes
Fogging my glasses, lost in a mass mess
Taskless dilemma to match somebody's status
And I'm average as fuck, no car cats gassing me up
Passing bucks like a casual blunt
Granted, hustling habits on the stump of a mansion
While bums pass, asking for a buck for some bagged bricks
Bad shit going down on the daily
While bad chicks pass in a Mercedes, damn
They say he's the bastard for chasing them
Maybe it's the patterns that make me that made me, crazy
And the radio daze kept us in the dark
And the satellite age brings us to the light
Some feeling the pinch, some feeling the bite
They ain't ready to talk, they're ready to fight
Never leave you alone (Never, I never leave you alone)
(Never, I never leave you alone)
Never leave you alone (Never, I never leave you alone)
(Never, I never leave you alone)
[Veres 1: Blu]
Yo, so what you searching for?
From birth, born hurting and yearning for certain somethings
Lurking and murk 'em, got 'em turning this
Bed into a coffin, burning over passions in this passion
Or more or less over what the pastor passed us
Cause see, the past tense, it never really passes
Phases that trap us and cage us like classes
Fogging my glasses, lost in a mass mess
Taskless dilemma to match somebody's status
And I'm average as fuck, no car cats gassing me up
Passing bucks like a casual blunt
Granted, hustling habits on the stump of a mansion
While bums pass, asking for a buck for some bagged bricks
Bad shit going down on the daily
While bad chicks pass in a Mercedes, damn
They say he's the bastard for chasing them
Maybe it's the patterns that make me that made me, crazy
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