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http://www.youtube.com/YouIAmMusic
Heres a song I wrote using the Atmosphere instrumental, Always Coming Back Home to You. The instrumental was chopped and pieced together by me so I could ride the beat. Hope you enjoy. Much Love, stay up world.
Lyrics:
I walked down the street, zipped my coat and ran fast to catch the last bus, palmed 35 cents, dropped em in the tan can. Proceeded to make my way to settle in the back.
Looked out of the window, it was snowin already, the weatherman was wrong, as he usually was, so I played my next song. Soaked myself in its bass and began to pen my rhymes in place.
I looked up at a face, a bum starin at me like I was all outta place. The hope was still there but shit the pride was gone, it had been too long, I could tell by his cap. His life consists of bus rides and crack .
Further down Central, we pass streets and names, hobos and young dames. People walkin outta tattoo parlors smokin blunts, my mood is gettin hotter from the father with his daughter beggin on the corner for any sum of quarters,
I look down Yale, where we pray in the warzone, amiss sirens and road cones. And organized minority crime homes. Remember growin up just a little ways down the street,
The places we used to ride bikes and ball, wish those days would never go away at all. But we all grew up, after 21 years, and still, me and Ali are adherin to our culture, remember the past, of where we once were and where we now are at.
I snap back to the present, in the presence of a manic depressant, an adolescent climbin up the bus stairs, he aint got coin, so hes sent back, doesnt even know where hes going. Another desperado story. Hes cold and lonely.
The snow, its proly 4 inches by now. At Frontier, people crowdin in to stay warm, my towns best form of local identity, apart from the fact, that most of us are minority.
Thats why I stay focused, and I dont feel worthless, I get up at the next stop and walk past the bum, eyeing me like I was lunch, drop a dollar in his hand, he nods without a word, and I continue to pass.
Thank the driver on my way, stuff my hands in my pockets and clutch my verbal targets. All while figurin out how it was that I could stop it. The hunger, the famine, the blood, guns and the ransom. My heart beats are chantin, for encores and ampin. Bass throttle and anthems, and hip hop samplin.
And as the bus took off, I suddenly realize I had left my pad, But it would be okay, because the stories were so vivid, they got etched in my brain. And I wrote this anyway.
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nice ....mind if we use a song of yours in a video of ours...if we give you credit and link your chAnnel?
shortfilmzz123 2 years ago
yo for sure, id love to get some exposure, lemme know when and which song
YouIAmMusic 2 years ago