Jagged Edge

Jagged Edge - This Goes Out lyrics

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Everybody out there making them ends meet
 I ain't mad at'cha
 JE y'all, this goes out to everybody

 This goes out to you, this goes out to you
 (This goes out)
 This goes out to you, this goes out to you
 (I'm telling you this goes out)
 This goes out to you, this goes out to you
 (This goes out, hey)
 This goes out to you, this goes out to you
 (Oh, oh, oh, oh)

 Some people sleep five to a bed
 Three at the feet, two at the top
 So I can't really talk about how they should live
 When I know in my heart if it came down to it
 I'd be getting down the same as them
 See Lord, tryna hustle must be something heaven sent
 A lot of rent wouldn't be made without this trade
 That we call hustlin'

 This goes out to the cats on the corner
 Stressin' and strugglin' just to get a dollar
 I ain't mad at'cha, gotta do something
 Hold your head up cause they can't touch you
 This goes out to the girls in the streets
 Like going all out just so their kids can eat
 Like I ain't mad at'cha, gotta do something
 Hold your head up cause they can't touch you
 This goes out...

 I used to be half between
 Going all out and doings things that I know just wasn't right
 And now I'm looking back
 And I think just do it or never did something
 But I can tell you that
 I'd probably take a bullet in my head than leave my family unfed
 And that's the way it is
 This goes out to my homies, yeah

 This goes out to the cats on the corner
 Stressin' and strugglin' just to get a dollar
 I ain't mad at'cha, gotta do something
 Hold your head up cause they can't touch you
 This goes out to the girls in the streets
 Like going all out just so their kids can eat
 Like I ain't mad at'cha, gotta do something
 Hold your head up cause they can't touch you
 This goes out...

 [Rap]
 Uh, uh, uh
 Ay yo I welcome the struggle
 Like I welcome the hustle
 Find the right one, take it and bubble
 That's on the muscle
 I ain't giving in, I'm trying to win
 And if I gotta get my hands a little dirty
 Then I'm sorry for sin
 But the Fed don't understand ain't bred
 So brothers gotta learn to bake to make bread
 Chicks use their ass and shake to make breat
 But I understand shorty keep them kids fed

 This goes out to my whole 5-5-81 click
 I often reminisce when we just dreamed of this
 Rich cars, fine homes, girls with nice toes
 Dime pieces standing in line to show us their thongs
 Went from riding six deep in a little ass jeep
 To Cadillac trucks and Benzes, prowling the streets
 We gon' ball till we fall
 Cause we fadin' em all
 Put your glasses in the air, this goes out to y'all

 This goes out to the cats on the corner
 Stressin' and strugglin' just to get a dollar
 I ain't mad at'cha, gotta do something
 Hold your head up cause they can't touch you
 This goes out to the girls in the streets
 Like going all out just so their kids can eat
 Like I ain't mad at'cha, gotta do something
 Hold your head up cause they can't touch you
 This goes out...

 My homies, you can't touch me
 If you don't really know
 This goes out to my homies
 You can't touch me
 If you don't really know
 This goes out to my homies
 You can't touch me
 If you don't really know
 This goes out to my homies
 You can't touch me
 If you don't really know
Get this song at:
bol.com
amazon.com

Copyrights:

Author: ?

Composer: ?

Publisher: ?

Details:

Language: English

Appearing on: Jagged Little Thrill (2001)

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