Correction Paroles Hard Times par Colton Brown

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Colton Brown - Hard Times

Uh, lets go, yea

Hard times, they steady comin'
On my knees, I'm so tired of runnin'
Lord knows, I try
Do my best, I do my best to get by
But everyday is the same
Seems like I struggle in vain
Like nothings ever gonna change
And I got whiskey, mary-jane, and me to blame
Mary jane and me to blame
Mary jane and me to blame

Uh, yea, yea, yea, check it
Sometimes I find myself thinking, damn, my situation critical
The fact that I'm even still breathin man it's a miracle
Hate to sound cynical, but at times I feel I'll never reach my pinnacle
It's like I'm borderline depressed, diagnosis prolly clinical
And I try to break the cycle but everyday is identical
Man I'm drinkin like a fish, and I'm smokin habitual
Doing all the shit I used to say was impermissable
Starting to feel, happiness is really mythical
Pop a top, roll a blunt, still I'm feelin miserable
Everybody got advice, mostly hypocritical
People steady talking, I'm ignoring every syllable
Feelin like an underachiever, stereotypical
And how I got to this point is inexplicable
Used to feel invincible, now it's more invisible
But maybe it's just me and I'm just over-analytical...

Hard times, they steady comin'
On my knees, I'm so tired of runnin'
Lord knows, I try
Do my best, I do my best to get by

But everyday is the same
Seems like I struggle in vain
Like nothings ever gonna change
And I got whiskey, mary-jane, and me to blame
Mary jane and me to blame
Mary jane and me to blame

See man I really should be doin better, instead of
Playin the blame game
Before I wind up dead or in the chain gang
Walking around chip on my shoulder ain't a thing changed
I spent too many years blaming all the same things
I blamed daddy, for daddy leaving mama
And mama's gambling problem it caused a whole lot of drama
I even blamed Karma, I blamed my baby mama
But I never once thought that I would blame marijuana
Huh, it's so simple, to let the finger point
Let my problems disappear in the smoke from a joint
Or the whiskey from my flask, ghosts from my past
Always seem to disappear when the liquor hit the glass
As a matter of fact, I'm beginning to see
All the years I threw away feeling sorry for me
Feeling sorry I, feeling sorry for we
Cause after all, without mary-j, where would I be?

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