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Testo: Buddha Monk. Zu Chronicles 6: King Monk. How Could U Blame Me.


[performed by Politic]


[Politic:]
Tell me the truth, how could you blame me?
I only came to be the man I am, cause the way the streets raised me
It made me crazy, they the cause why I think like this lately
And chase weed with baby
Or maybe there's another cause, but why I crush up 'dro
And hit bars, often disobey lawas
They taught me think paper first
Hit the block til they say it hurts
Chase dough and not skirts
I'm a victim of a situation, unpaid bills and debts, chose my occupation
Heart racing, no pops, on the low from the cops
Hit the 'dro spot and only chill where it's hot
What you expect me to maintain, with the devil in my brainwaves
Learn the right rules for the wrong game
Can't change, I gotta stay in my lane
But you can't knock a nigga hustle, how he cope with his pain

[Chorus x2: Politic]
How could you blame me? I only came to be
The man I am, cause the way the game made me
Streets raised me, crazy, from the stroller to the day ya'll blaze me

[Politic:]
I went away for a minute, cause things got vivid
Had to learn how to limp and talk a little different
No more blowing pounds of chronic and chasing bitches
My game plan switching but I'm on the same mission
Still Poli', still live by the same motto
Still spit fluid that's hard for haters to follow
I'm in top shape, now I control my own fate
I still move weight, get papes and dip jakes
I change lenin, made my bed and laid in it
I cut the dead ends, brushed off and kept spinning
Patience is a virtue, that's the law that never hurt you
Take a sec, do it right, and ya dreams'll come true
That's a life lesson, dice games and hot weapons
Just a common strut, but smart niggas be side stepping
Stack dough, bend hoes and play the low
Spit so, dry rap niggas homage ya flows

[Chorus x2]

[Politic:]
Tell me how is it that, you can critize my acts
Turn my back to the fact that ya'll taught me to react
You said be patient, cause the good times coming
While I'm here waiting, tell me how to cope with being hungry
The future's bright, it's the present that's dark
Trying to come terms with that is the reason I spark
That's why caps get twisted, on bottles and niggas
And I always been enlisted with an army chasing figures
I done spent many a late night, writing by the moonlight
No beat, tapping my feet, to set the mood right
I learned young, nobody listens to ya tongue
Niggas only hear funds unless you talking with a gun
Now that's major, still you penalize me
For trying to get paper, I was taught that money was a savior
Cause in harm's fairs, brings hope to the people
Man it settle's tears, and makes all niggas equal

[Chorus]