Lyrics:
Stormed a few castles only for some profits
Back when money was a hassle
Now handled like mere objects
Prayed project people become real prophets
Prayed
to me now
The real can't be brought or sold, taught or told
The boy tried to keep it but he lost his soul
On the road to the riches, he lost control
forget any details
Vacation for My Soul
Miss me, baby
'Cause I'm missing you
Wherever we'll be
There will be rest for me
'Cause you're a vacation for my
You Won't See Me Tonight
Aaliyah
Intro:
[Nas] & (Timbaland)
(What?) ever been in love? (c'mon)
Yeah... are you ready? (uhh) for somethin real?
(Say
[Nas] + (Timbaland)
(What?) Ever been in love? (C'mon)
Yeah.. are you ready? (uhh) For somethin real?
(Say what?) Cause it can't be fake
This
[Ving Rhames]
He's a hustler, unbound by law
A self-made, millionaire
With a wreckless disregard, for the haters
Ludacris, on "Southern Gangsta"
[skit plays for first minute or so of track]
[Ghostface Killah]
Congratulations, we have refreshments and glass bracelets
Avian water's ya choice,
turn back
King of the jungle in my one-horse-wild-safari town, but I got a tiger by the tail, and I think she's going for the crown
Her brazon lips
laughing
Laughing at what?
Los Angeles, eight days in
And our sense of irony's running pretty thin
All the friends we've made
Piano interlude not
The idea for the song was to capture what you wanted to say
Like no filter, after your third date or something like that
Exactly, the idea is to sort of lead
by any means so my soul for sale
I got my soul for sale
Yeah, I remember them days couldn't post no bail
I couldn't post no bail
Standing on the corner
remember being poor
I still is but watch me win
The youngest nigga on the Forbes
He is I and I am him
Piano speak to my soul
Harmonies and violins
I'm from
grinding, I've been doing piano lessons
Nah, on the real, though, next weekend fsho
This weekend is horrible cause my uncle is coming up for the weekend
But
in the marsh dealing his last card’s!
It ain’t King Arthur’s Excalibur here to scar,
Strictly sharp Dotanuki blades for M.C. carp!
Souls are fully
Friends saying let’s go, but they only want your gold
Homie, better save yourself
Drugs made you come close, yeah, it almost took your soul
Yeah, you
a Paul Allen in vacant loft
Warrants bein' filed for the cases fought
And them drugs get obtained by debatin' cost
You ain't Superman when that cape is
the sonics
You don't hear it like I do
I'm seeing colors piano blue
What happened to ya'll albums
Could make a single from an interlude
Hella rude like Jude
Man, if I get rocked, this shit for my kids, nigga
It's that real shit
Even though what we do is wrong
We still hustle 'til the sun come up
Crack
of a master
You never thought you'd be bodied by a bastard
A bachelor who backspin on breakbeats
Break necks of broke souls who hate me
Hate he? you can't
!) It's real!
(It's real!) So real!
It's realer than real, for real, for real
The early bird gets the worm in this rotten apple
But explore deep
Publishing) / Soylent Tunes / SESAC
Live In Stereo
This field guide's got no soul
Digging for the sacred
In a man-made hole
The soil
of sleep
In the morning I'll be beat
I know it will come back to bite
But I'll stay up for one more night
[Instrumental Interlude]
[Verse 2]
All throughout
2022, I explained that “Songs From The Long Road” is essentially 60-year-olds revisiting songs written by 30-year-olds about being 17. The remark was
don't want to be alone.. yeahhhheeeeee
Is there anything I can say to help you find your way
Touch ya soul, make ya whole, the same for you and I
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