Lirik Lagu Been Through The Storm - Busta Rhymes
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(feat. Stevie Wonder)
[Chorus: Stevie Wonder]Been through the storm, through the cold and rainEverything's still the sameCan't control how I feelSometimes it's hard to keep it realYou see the luxuries in life, with the fortune and fameLike them Cadillacs with sunroofs mayneSo many ways to make a dollarHuh, sometimes I think about my fatherYou see my poppa was broke, and my momma was youngTryin to blend in with them city folkEvery day landlord knockin down my do'Wonderin where my next blessing is comin from
[Busta Rhymes]My momma and poppa, moved to the U.S. as JamaicansStruggled to get visas and green cards through immigrationThough my pop was po', stayed away from crime and maliceHard living gave him hard hands and callousAs a young'n, peep how much they loved each other's spaceHis hard hands rubbin against the pretty skin of my mother's faceDig for treasure 'til his hands looked like hands of a junkieSo coarse, slap a mule and take the life from a donkeyOn the other hand, mommy was the type to work two jobsNever enough money, that's why I got your whole crew robbedGot older, developed ways of grippin the steelBarely home for me to see her, or get a good cooked mealSeek refuge in the alleged land of the free, lookinBlendin in with city folk, down in Flatbush BrooklynFeel a little of my pain, follow and sing to itHomey I seen it all, if you ain't knowin I been through itIn other words I
[Chorus]
[Busta Rhymes]Got a little older, late teens, me and my crew would huddleOn the corner late nights, plottin to escape struggleNights got cold and still would hustle in the same placeIn front of Pancho Delis, now the freeze up on a nigga face1987 Reaganomics ever curiousto visit other cities, out of town kick was seriousGuayanese jeans bounce, put whatever slinger onWhatever slinger came back, quickly brought me right alongNigga ran away from homeDoin different wild shit, just to put a pair of Filas on, 'Didas onWreck is all for the good, gettin into shitLike we innocent, actin older than shouldWalk around broke in the hood, watchin all the rich niggazThese younger thugs who try to choke and try to get niggazThinkin 'bout my mom and pop, while I'm monopolizinTo hell with just gettin by and economizinIt's kinda hard bein humble in the belly of struggleDoin things that probably get you in troubleThat's why we stay up on the block, gettin money while we keepin it safeIn front of churchgoers keepin the faithMom and pop be worryin for they sonDespite they struggle and their honest livin look and see just what I becomeA scavenger, in brute pursuit to be happy, another young'n that's wildinAcross the line until somebody tryin to cap me - ohhhh shit [gunfire]
[Outro: Stevie Wonder - singer slower with more ad libs]I been through the stormThrough the cold and rainEverything's still the sameCan't control how I feelSometimes it's hard to keep it realWoooooooooooooo-whoahhhhhhhhhhhhhYeahhhhhhhhhhh-ohhhhhhhhhhhhahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
[Chorus: Stevie Wonder]Been through the storm, through the cold and rainEverything's still the sameCan't control how I feelSometimes it's hard to keep it realYou see the luxuries in life, with the fortune and fameLike them Cadillacs with sunroofs mayneSo many ways to make a dollarHuh, sometimes I think about my fatherYou see my poppa was broke, and my momma was youngTryin to blend in with them city folkEvery day landlord knockin down my do'Wonderin where my next blessing is comin from
[Busta Rhymes]My momma and poppa, moved to the U.S. as JamaicansStruggled to get visas and green cards through immigrationThough my pop was po', stayed away from crime and maliceHard living gave him hard hands and callousAs a young'n, peep how much they loved each other's spaceHis hard hands rubbin against the pretty skin of my mother's faceDig for treasure 'til his hands looked like hands of a junkieSo coarse, slap a mule and take the life from a donkeyOn the other hand, mommy was the type to work two jobsNever enough money, that's why I got your whole crew robbedGot older, developed ways of grippin the steelBarely home for me to see her, or get a good cooked mealSeek refuge in the alleged land of the free, lookinBlendin in with city folk, down in Flatbush BrooklynFeel a little of my pain, follow and sing to itHomey I seen it all, if you ain't knowin I been through itIn other words I
[Chorus]
[Busta Rhymes]Got a little older, late teens, me and my crew would huddleOn the corner late nights, plottin to escape struggleNights got cold and still would hustle in the same placeIn front of Pancho Delis, now the freeze up on a nigga face1987 Reaganomics ever curiousto visit other cities, out of town kick was seriousGuayanese jeans bounce, put whatever slinger onWhatever slinger came back, quickly brought me right alongNigga ran away from homeDoin different wild shit, just to put a pair of Filas on, 'Didas onWreck is all for the good, gettin into shitLike we innocent, actin older than shouldWalk around broke in the hood, watchin all the rich niggazThese younger thugs who try to choke and try to get niggazThinkin 'bout my mom and pop, while I'm monopolizinTo hell with just gettin by and economizinIt's kinda hard bein humble in the belly of struggleDoin things that probably get you in troubleThat's why we stay up on the block, gettin money while we keepin it safeIn front of churchgoers keepin the faithMom and pop be worryin for they sonDespite they struggle and their honest livin look and see just what I becomeA scavenger, in brute pursuit to be happy, another young'n that's wildinAcross the line until somebody tryin to cap me - ohhhh shit [gunfire]
[Outro: Stevie Wonder - singer slower with more ad libs]I been through the stormThrough the cold and rainEverything's still the sameCan't control how I feelSometimes it's hard to keep it realWoooooooooooooo-whoahhhhhhhhhhhhhYeahhhhhhhhhhh-ohhhhhhhhhhhhahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
