Mr. Probz - Wise Old Man lyrics

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Mr. Probz - Wise Old Man lyrics

[Verse 1: Mr. Probz] I'm outside to see a lot of fiends Coming and going, the wind blowing Smoke pressure eyes on my chest Sweaty my skin showing The cops know it's a rat race So I tighten my shoes, moving at a fast pace Take a walk with me, you wanna see what I saw Feel what I felt, my hand feel like a stove From cold metals I melt, my palms stay dirty I tried to live clean, write a couple songs Maybe live a little man's dream Like my grandfather said, the biggest trees Catch the most wind if that's the truth I'm a branch now and feel the breeze He always told me, nobody owns you No man controls you because your the one that knows you Got fixed cards when my hand got dealt I'm realizing sh** stinks so now I'm just saving myself And don't need help, you like me? Nah, that's unlikely, I sleep tight but never let a bedbug bite me Daydreams turning to nightmares, I'm quite scared But never show it on the outside, I fight fear The world ain't big enough for you and me Big enough for me and you to breathe so I'm a let it be [Hook] The world ain't big enough for people Friends could be lethal, a wise man once told me He said you better put some eyes on your back Because they keep praying for your downfall The wise old man once told me He said watch your step, watch your step Watch your step now, watch your step Because things around you ain't always what they seem [Verse 2: Sonny Diablo] Picture me laying in my casket Body covered with gasoline Picture you holding the matches You look at me and hate what you see I'm a threat to society A born slave with a tormented soul I take the head of a snake, cut out the eyes of a rat These n***as give me no break Jealousy is written over your face And you said you was my soul mate I Knew it was all fake The streets got cold blooded steak You the type when I'm in jail, you go try f** my b**h I keep a double clip and bust somebody's melon Never talking to cops, nobody telling From sunrise to sunset I'm on grind But why I be at war with my peeps My own kind in this white man world When nothing comes free The second I get some money, they go try to rob me Maybe I should give you my life, my gun, my knife My shed, my couch, my bed, my phone, my bread The clothes on my back, the shoes on my feet The harder you listen, the softer I speak [Hook]