Roadbeaters

It took years of pain, struggle, and strife from not knowing To up-step stage, sound check, and wreck shows With the nice confidence, critically precise Reassuring my brother, rolling the dice, making life ice Locked on new blocks, promoters, and cities Alone on the road, temp well-below fifty What a pity, it comes down to mics and a pillow Couple handshakes, hash browns and a hello From a fan to make it worthwhile with the plan To cover more miles than any man should have In limited time, with unlimited rhymes to give for b-boys Unified in towns where they live, worldwide And at the same time, it’s still cold Thousand miles away with your life on hold At home in other times zones, doing our best Travelling train-to-plane, stretching out, getting rest In uncomfortable positions, a show rocking missions Looking for an audience or crowd that’ll listen And it happens, put my worthwhile in my rap And a paycheck in the form of loud handclapping Back to the hotel, next night, same thing Nothing glamorous, we’re just doing our thing And go back to the hotel (same thing) Nothing glamorous, we’re just doing our thing I come home to shadiness at least eighty percent of the time ‘Cause I was out getting mine, tripping, kicking the rhyme Ol’ girl don’t understand that’s why it’s getting better each time Chilling in the spotlights, Corona and lime When I point, it’s the joint, y’all, I’m having a ball Travelling without the battling of who’s weak and who’s raw Just in the state of mind of partying and ripping rhymes Smoking out the green room, cracking jokes, drinking wine But sometimes, I unwind and find myself sober And called home in about a week, technically it’s overseas Where I’mma find myself at the bottom of this Chain smoking anything, hollering at Chris He say he going through it too, asking what we gotta do I said we got an interview at a half past two With all feelings aside, a soundcheck at five o’clock We up, set to rock another night outta thirty of them Keep the greens coming (two kinds!), and I can recline Over to the next state line and dealing with time An all-star rap show, proving the thought Keeping it moving, country-to-country-to-state, we heavy grooving But you see, I got obligations at home My mind telling me someone’s having relations at home All I can do is stay high and focus on the P But it’s that angel and that devil, and he’s sitting, fucking with me I’m L.A.-International-bound, pack up the sound, head West I got smooth intentions on breaking necks But first, I’m heading to the bank with a big grin It’s a couple that know I’m coming back to do it again (ah, ha ha!) And I’m talking ‘bout you, you, you… oh, but not you Kiss your mama goodbye, we’re hitting the road No tour bus, carrying our own load So throw it in a bag, pack it up, and let’s go Travel ‘round the globe, trying to rock a fresh show Kiss your mama goodbye, we’re hitting the road No tour bus, carrying our own load So throw it in a bag, pack it up, and let’s go Travel ‘round the globe, trying to rock a fresh show