FES TAYLOR


Be Free Lyrics

[Fes Taylor:]
I could give you my pain, I could give you my joy
I'm Santa Claus givin' toys to my little boy
Little things like that be my only way to escape
Behind gates, feelin' like I'm trapped
In the place I was dealin', I was strapped
When I lay, face to the ceilin' and knealin' on the cracks
In the concrete, try and make a million off of rap
Way back, I was lookin' for a sack like Sev
In the hood on the corner smokin' weed all day
Talked with fiend out for $10 and he don't pay
I'll how we went from Impalas to CLKs
I blow a couple of dollars at MIA
Feel good to get away, when you livin' in drama
From the wars on the street to beef with ya baby mama
I had to seperate so I had to put a comma
In a sentence, like Osama waitin' in the trenches

[Chorus: sample (Fes Taylor)]
Got drama, still wanna...
(Be free and live my life for me
Feel pain when I write to beats
Live my life on the streets
Up nights to get a bite to eat)

[Mr. Prezident:]
I think about them days, breakin' Dave, pullin' straight nights
Always go to straight white tryin' get my cake right
Rip through worse than that, baby need new shoes
Did what I had to do, how could you be mad at dude?
Shorty had an attitude, I could see her heart ache
Now I'm jammed up between a rock and a hard place
I was just a young buck, grindin', tryin' to come up
Life was like a dice game, I would press my dumb luck
Flirtin' with death, I was carryin' the heat
I was in love with her but I was married to the streets
She tried to tell me slow up, I would scream "For what? "
She replied "Grow up, if not for you, for us"
Now I think about our life together
Even though I like good cheddar, I like her better
Don't tell her cause I guaranteed she wouldn't get this
I'm married to the game and the streets is my mistress

[Chorus]

[Fes Taylor:]
Yo, strugglin' to take it, bubblin' in places
When my homies caught a couple of cases
Ain't growin' up, I had to tustle with racists
After school fightin', I was scuffin' my A6
My life like a movie and it's only on take six
My moms always told me "Son, it is what you make it
People try to tell you you ain't shit
Cause they don't wanna see you do better than they did, it's hatred"
Yo, look at the way that they raised kids
It's like the next generation, headed right for a grave, kid
Penitentiary remind you what a slave is
Whole mentality'll change around when you caged in
Women is judged by dimes and quarters
That's why I'm scared to have me a daughter
It's like we sayin' that they worth way less than a dollar
Like "Hey ma" and expect 'em to holla
I'm just bein' real...

[Chorus]

[Various chatter to fade]

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Record Label(s): 2015 Chambermusik Special Products

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