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Damaged People lyrics

Pat Obahiagbon talks…
Yea, should I just scribble the rhymes, pass it to another man to read and understand/ while I listen to the music and endup to be a stan/Picture me that I came alive with a diferent plan into your future from the past for you to sit and relax/ cos you were born in a trap/A place where no one gives a sh*t about your ass till you make the cash/You tell them you gona be the next star and they just laugh 'haha’ cos they think its impossible, they all perverts! Talking about your life pattern, in a country where the only nice word is „how far”?/ We went to school and passed out/ now we going for our masters with only 5 shirts in the bag with two trousers/ We just walk on the street and admire different mansions, hoping we gona get ours anyday when the time comes/couple of years later we got different passports to apply for a job and wait for the outcome/I got the info courtesy of an uncle/everything was cool and I also went for the interview/ provided the right answers, looking promising next thing I saw was politics, they asked for couple of cheese and I couldn’t provide it so I had to leave, Damn!! A part of dedication, I place a verse to edge trepidation/what am spitting is an indication that am getting closer to a master piece/As a kid I came out to mix coz we believed in what we see and taught to be discrete among the peeps/part of me was to cut the limit and group of friends I try to keep/All the trend including when they teach us in class, it was a rule to listen and disguise/ and act wise but never give in to pretence and lies/ At times in my class, talking to a girl was bravery/an act to always brag about but with a stride I grewup with a force where my pops wanted medical course and of course it was a course not to oppose but to stay focus for tomorrow. Hiphop was in my blood from an unknown source so I had to holdon and life is not a bed of rose/A prose I never forgot, that’s how the story goes…
I understood life in different views/When they don’t get a clue, people hate what they listen to/I hated rapping too and all through the years I never thought I could express myself by writing too/ didn’t tell my parents cos I had the proof, everything with a clue and the right attitude cos reciting was a verb we only used for clearance/tell the sisters searching for they partners, just relax and have faith in Christ/ When you rush you endup in divorce and that’s emmotion lost and that’s a motion of me trying to put niggas all through the flop/ When they’re coming up, I pay devotion off/ many niggas loose focus because of competition/ too many niggas were called but only few were chosen/I’m poring a verse and am trying to keep it like that/some niggas mis-match, no one cares to improve his/her talent but everybody wanna be star so amma risk that planet/Acknowledging the fact that am a Nigerian cat doing hiphop/We keepup the rhyme and its far from pass, go to Lag, Abj and back to PH/ that’s where the real hiphop lives/We repping it, am putting my city back on the map but yall don’t recognize these/ cos you’re too busy with the wacks/step on a fact; sipping coffee, am glad/paying values, painting images separated from the features/ incarcerated by niggas who couldn’t keepup the realness…
Listen to the chorus

Outro: People nervous when they hear us so they feel jealous/ and competition is an error cos I’ve been a terror from uterus! I can go on and on but that’s just the end of it…

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