Paroles de la chanson Halal par Marlon Craft

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Paroles de la chanson Halal par Marlon Craft

Oh my god
A lot of y'all just want some shit to critique
But your ass can't listen in the midst of a speech
As long as the cool table still got limited seats
And you try and argue your way in, you'll be sitting with sheep
Yeah, we so quick to just speak, addicted to peaks
But life lived in the middle is sweet
Chasin' highs, avoiding lows, never time to even learn
Usually ones gettin' louder don't even believe their words
I'm from New York, we was taught not to feed the birds

But ain't a hungry pigeon in sight these days
Politely, hey, the shit we giving hype be fake
I wonder lotta days, what good is progression if it's all built on lies?
Lost our ability to evaluate
Need to re-calibrate
I read your lil tweets, I think your passion fake
Everyone want eat but it's rare that they want have the stakes that I have embraced
Man, have a plate
Or keep acting like the shit don't matter
Actin' like we ain't the blueprint for the kids goin' after
Actin' like we ain't the ones who made it cool to not know and not try and not grow as long as you got hoes, right?
I feel responsibility to declare you're flopping
And I do my duty free like airport shopping

Won't take the culture name in vain, you a junkie arm
Dudes just want be liked, even if that means they want be wrong
Claim they cold, but that's fear, they present the same shivering, covering up, unrelenting games
Yeah, they want the fame, they don't wan't the pain
They wanna be Marlon, they don't wanna work at the other name
Mission to avoid the cubicle turned to a calling
I ball and I'm musical, Esperanza Spalding
Yeah, I'm the best out, debate your mother
She probably saw me on MSNBC and loved it
I'd rather have these dialogues within the culture
But this payola these days is undercover
I guess it ain't payola when the shit's the whole structure

Like the same thing on the table is somehow better than under
I shout shit they ain't got the balls to utter
Appalled, disgusted how I live
I don't know how you ain't
The money's there but the value ain't
I run circles round you dudes til I'm out of shape
So fuck you and your lil pouty face
No one ever cared about mine
I had to prove I wasn't pussy every day my whole life
If they look at me like a trust-fund baby one more time I might slap the shit out your face
Open-hand so you overstand you ain't worth the risk of a broken hand
Only spend time with my people really know the plan

You just fear this lion cause all you know is lamb
And that ain't halal, brother
That ain't halal, brother
You talking to the God

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