[{"id":31400040,"name":"Being Human's Hard","trackName":"Being Human's Hard","artistName":"CunninLynguists","albumName":"Sloppy Seconds, Volume 2","duration":224.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"He try leading with his heart\nWithout bleeding from his heart\nBacardi dark and blunts sparked meetings in the park\nJacques Cousteau, below city level, fleein' from sharks\nPushers playin' while police man up with snitchers and narcs\nCould cheddar be so vital a piece of my soul's survival\nTo the point to even go look for peace you load your rifle?\nPast mistakes, court dates, brand you for life\nForce hand makes the crackheads scramble for pipes\nFast grands, take your high stakes, gamble for ice\nLook at the surface of the game, dang, that'll be nice\nFigured the purpose of the game, man, that'll be life\nOr get two circles on the chain, wrists gotta be tight\nEither your head on the cruiser or the lead from the Luger\nMighta made ya some dough but ain't no bread in your future\nKinda movin' too slow, ya better spread 'fore they shoot ya\nHospital bed, can't use your legs like ya use to\n\nBeing human's hard\nBeing human's hard on the boulevard\nBeing human's hard\nBeing human's hard on the boulevard\n\nCome a little closer into the life of a smoker\nWhere paranoia is the price to be sober, over my shoulder\nSeems to be the land of the lost and the home of the slaves\nWhere soldiers carry toasters in holsters, supposed to be brave\nBut underneath the surface they purpose is lost in they ways\nThey walk in a daze, the only time they spark when they blaze\nThey off in a maze, the high life you've lost to get paid\nThe low life is when you're tossed in that cage, or in that grave\nSo I stay with an open mind, my mind's open\nWhen I'm totin' 9s on the grind hopin' over time\nI can climb to the top of the cliff\nCause right now I'm standin' at the edge stiff, I'm hopin' that I don't slip\nOne slight, false move and my life in this tight grip\nThe lose all strength in the time and be priceless\nThough my right fist is stuck in the air to show power\nMy left hand's holdin' them grams of snow powder\n\nI see dice games, I'm side bettin', makin' a killin', man\nHomies fuckin' niggas swiping rings and chains\nMoney lost now, a body picked up off ground\nThat child saw it, deafened by pain it was an assault sound\nBangs they all round, bangs on her hair\nYessir, her right there, she livin' the nightmare\nIn the couch room bounce a tip with curtains closed\nSupposed to dance but off the deck some piles a sniff she workin' poles\nSlice of onion make her cry\nCause of lack of funding standards are lowered like dungeons only to survive\nFor many life ain't half over at the end of its rope\nLike they just smoked bad dope blended with soap paint\nBut were getting paid however we can\nIt's hard in Lexington, and I'm feelin' less than a man\nLeaders misleadin' and weavin' rivals for fraud\nPlague like weed caught a swing from Moses' rod","syncedLyrics":"[00:05.38] He try leading with his heart\n[00:19.85] Without bleeding from his heart\n[00:21.69] Bacardi dark and blunts sparked meetings in the park\n[00:23.44] Jacques Cousteau, below city level, fleein' from sharks\n[00:27.19] Pushers playin' while police man up with snitchers and narcs\n[00:29.87] Could cheddar be so vital a piece of my soul's survival\n[00:32.58] To the point to even go look for peace you load your rifle?\n[00:35.28] Past mistakes, court dates, brand you for life\n[00:37.90] Force hand makes the crackheads scramble for pipes\n[00:39.73] Fast grands, take your high stakes, gamble for ice\n[00:42.47] Look at the surface of the game, dang, that'll be nice\n[00:46.06] Figured the purpose of the game, man, that'll be life\n[00:48.76] Or get two circles on the chain, wrists gotta be tight\n[00:51.41] Either your head on the cruiser or the lead from the Luger\n[00:54.24] Mighta made ya some dough but ain't no bread in your future\n[00:56.92] Kinda movin' too slow, ya better spread 'fore they shoot ya\n[00:59.67] Hospital bed, can't use your legs like ya use to\n[01:02.31] Being human's hard\n[01:07.75] Being human's hard on the boulevard\n[01:14.99] Being human's hard\n[01:18.53] Being human's hard on the boulevard\n[01:24.09] Come a little closer into the life of a smoker\n[01:26.75] Where paranoia is the price to be sober, over my shoulder\n[01:29.46] Seems to be the land of the lost and the home of the slaves\n[01:32.11] Where soldiers carry toasters in holsters, supposed to be brave\n[01:34.88] But underneath the surface they purpose is lost in they ways\n[01:37.57] They walk in a daze, the only time they spark when they blaze\n[01:40.29] They off in a maze, the high life you've lost to get paid\n[01:42.91] The low life is when you're tossed in that cage, or in that grave\n[01:45.60] So I stay with an open mind, my mind's open\n[01:48.42] When I'm totin' 9s on the grind hopin' over time\n[01:51.29] I can climb to the top of the cliff\n[01:53.06] Cause right now I'm standin' at the edge stiff, I'm hopin' that I don't slip\n[01:56.62] One slight, false move and my life in this tight grip\n[02:00.33] The lose all strength in the time and be priceless\n[02:03.05] Though my right fist is stuck in the air to show power\n[02:04.80] My left hand's holdin' them grams of snow powder\n[02:07.51] I see dice games, I'm side bettin', makin' a killin', man\n[02:32.84] Homies fuckin' niggas swiping rings and chains\n[02:34.61] Money lost now, a body picked up off ground\n[02:37.44] That child saw it, deafened by pain it was an assault sound\n[02:40.13] Bangs they all round, bangs on her hair\n[02:43.87] Yessir, her right there, she livin' the nightmare\n[02:45.61] In the couch room bounce a tip with curtains closed\n[02:49.23] Supposed to dance but off the deck some piles a sniff she workin' poles\n[02:51.92] Slice of onion make her cry\n[02:53.73] Cause of lack of funding standards are lowered like dungeons only to survive\n[02:57.41] For many life ain't half over at the end of its rope\n[03:00.14] Like they just smoked bad dope blended with soap paint\n[03:02.88] But were getting paid however we can\n[03:04.60] It's hard in Lexington, and I'm feelin' less than a man\n[03:07.38] Leaders misleadin' and weavin' rivals for fraud\n[03:10.08] Plague like weed caught a swing from Moses' rod\n[03:13.75] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Being Human's Hard\n artist: CunninLynguists\n album: Sloppy Seconds, Volume 2\n duration_ms: 224000\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: He try leading with his heart\n start_ms: 5380\n end_ms: 19850\n- text: Without bleeding from his heart\n start_ms: 19850\n end_ms: 21690\n- text: Bacardi dark and blunts sparked meetings in the park\n start_ms: 21690\n end_ms: 23440\n- text: Jacques Cousteau, below city level, fleein' from sharks\n start_ms: 23440\n end_ms: 27190\n- text: Pushers playin' while police man up with snitchers and narcs\n start_ms: 27190\n end_ms: 29870\n- text: Could cheddar be so vital a piece of my soul's survival\n start_ms: 29870\n end_ms: 32580\n- text: To the point to even go look for peace you load your rifle?\n start_ms: 32580\n end_ms: 35280\n- text: Past mistakes, court dates, brand you for life\n start_ms: 35280\n end_ms: 37900\n- text: Force hand makes the crackheads scramble for pipes\n start_ms: 37900\n end_ms: 39730\n- text: Fast grands, take your high stakes, gamble for ice\n start_ms: 39730\n end_ms: 42470\n- text: Look at the surface of the game, dang, that'll be nice\n start_ms: 42470\n end_ms: 46060\n- text: Figured the purpose of the game, man, that'll be life\n start_ms: 46060\n end_ms: 48760\n- text: Or get two circles on the chain, wrists gotta be tight\n start_ms: 48760\n end_ms: 51410\n- text: Either your head on the cruiser or the lead from the Luger\n start_ms: 51410\n end_ms: 54240\n- text: Mighta made ya some dough but ain't no bread in your future\n start_ms: 54240\n end_ms: 56920\n- text: Kinda movin' too slow, ya better spread 'fore they shoot ya\n start_ms: 56920\n end_ms: 59670\n- text: Hospital bed, can't use your legs like ya use to\n start_ms: 59670\n end_ms: 62310\n- text: Being human's hard\n start_ms: 62310\n end_ms: 67750\n- text: Being human's hard on the boulevard\n start_ms: 67750\n end_ms: 74990\n- text: Being human's hard\n start_ms: 74990\n end_ms: 78530\n- text: Being human's hard on the boulevard\n start_ms: 78530\n end_ms: 84090\n- text: Come a little closer into the life of a smoker\n start_ms: 84090\n end_ms: 86750\n- text: Where paranoia is the price to be sober, over my shoulder\n start_ms: 86750\n end_ms: 89460\n- text: Seems to be the land of the lost and the home of the slaves\n start_ms: 89460\n end_ms: 92110\n- text: Where soldiers carry toasters in holsters, supposed to be brave\n start_ms: 92110\n end_ms: 94880\n- text: But underneath the surface they purpose is lost in they ways\n start_ms: 94880\n end_ms: 97570\n- text: They walk in a daze, the only time they spark when they blaze\n start_ms: 97570\n end_ms: 100290\n- text: They off in a maze, the high life you've lost to get paid\n start_ms: 100290\n end_ms: 102910\n- text: The low life is when you're tossed in that cage, or in that grave\n start_ms: 102910\n end_ms: 105600\n- text: So I stay with an open mind, my mind's open\n start_ms: 105600\n end_ms: 108420\n- text: When I'm totin' 9s on the grind hopin' over time\n start_ms: 108420\n end_ms: 111290\n- text: I can climb to the top of the cliff\n start_ms: 111290\n end_ms: 113060\n- text: Cause right now I'm standin' at the edge stiff, I'm hopin' that I don't slip\n start_ms: 113060\n end_ms: 116620\n- text: One slight, false move and my life in this tight grip\n start_ms: 116620\n end_ms: 120330\n- text: The lose all strength in the time and be priceless\n start_ms: 120330\n end_ms: 123050\n- text: Though my right fist is stuck in the air to show power\n start_ms: 123050\n end_ms: 124800\n- text: My left hand's holdin' them grams of snow powder\n start_ms: 124800\n end_ms: 127510\n- text: I see dice games, I'm side bettin', makin' a killin', man\n start_ms: 127510\n end_ms: 152840\n- text: Homies fuckin' niggas swiping rings and chains\n start_ms: 152840\n end_ms: 154610\n- text: Money lost now, a body picked up off ground\n start_ms: 154610\n end_ms: 157440\n- text: That child saw it, deafened by pain it was an assault sound\n start_ms: 157440\n end_ms: 160130\n- text: Bangs they all round, bangs on her hair\n start_ms: 160130\n end_ms: 163870\n- text: Yessir, her right there, she livin' the nightmare\n start_ms: 163870\n end_ms: 165610\n- text: In the couch room bounce a tip with curtains closed\n start_ms: 165610\n end_ms: 169230\n- text: Supposed to dance but off the deck some piles a sniff she workin' poles\n start_ms: 169230\n end_ms: 171920\n- text: Slice of onion make her cry\n start_ms: 171920\n end_ms: 173730\n- text: Cause of lack of funding standards are lowered like dungeons only to survive\n start_ms: 173730\n end_ms: 177410\n- text: For many life ain't half over at the end of its rope\n start_ms: 177410\n end_ms: 180140\n- text: Like they just smoked bad dope blended with soap paint\n start_ms: 180140\n end_ms: 182880\n- text: But were getting paid however we can\n start_ms: 182880\n end_ms: 184600\n- text: It's hard in Lexington, and I'm feelin' less than a man\n start_ms: 184600\n end_ms: 187380\n- text: Leaders misleadin' and weavin' rivals for fraud\n start_ms: 187380\n end_ms: 190080\n- text: Plague like weed caught a swing from Moses' rod\n start_ms: 190080\n end_ms: 193750\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 193750\nplain: |-\n He try leading with his heart\n Without bleeding from his heart\n Bacardi dark and blunts sparked meetings in the park\n Jacques Cousteau, below city level, fleein' from sharks\n Pushers playin' while police man up with snitchers and narcs\n Could cheddar be so vital a piece of my soul's survival\n To the point to even go look for peace you load your rifle?\n Past mistakes, court dates, brand you for life\n Force hand makes the crackheads scramble for pipes\n Fast grands, take your high stakes, gamble for ice\n Look at the surface of the game, dang, that'll be nice\n Figured the purpose of the game, man, that'll be life\n Or get two circles on the chain, wrists gotta be tight\n Either your head on the cruiser or the lead from the Luger\n Mighta made ya some dough but ain't no bread in your future\n Kinda movin' too slow, ya better spread 'fore they shoot ya\n Hospital bed, can't use your legs like ya use to\n\n Being human's hard\n Being human's hard on the boulevard\n Being human's hard\n Being human's hard on the boulevard\n\n Come a little closer into the life of a smoker\n Where paranoia is the price to be sober, over my shoulder\n Seems to be the land of the lost and the home of the slaves\n Where soldiers carry toasters in holsters, supposed to be brave\n But underneath the surface they purpose is lost in they ways\n They walk in a daze, the only time they spark when they blaze\n They off in a maze, the high life you've lost to get paid\n The low life is when you're tossed in that cage, or in that grave\n So I stay with an open mind, my mind's open\n When I'm totin' 9s on the grind hopin' over time\n I can climb to the top of the cliff\n Cause right now I'm standin' at the edge stiff, I'm hopin' that I don't slip\n One slight, false move and my life in this tight grip\n The lose all strength in the time and be priceless\n Though my right fist is stuck in the air to show power\n My left hand's holdin' them grams of snow powder\n\n I see dice games, I'm side bettin', makin' a killin', man\n Homies fuckin' niggas swiping rings and chains\n Money lost now, a body picked up off ground\n That child saw it, deafened by pain it was an assault sound\n Bangs they all round, bangs on her hair\n Yessir, her right there, she livin' the nightmare\n In the couch room bounce a tip with curtains closed\n Supposed to dance but off the deck some piles a sniff she workin' poles\n Slice of onion make her cry\n Cause of lack of funding standards are lowered like dungeons only to survive\n For many life ain't half over at the end of its rope\n Like they just smoked bad dope blended with soap paint\n But were getting paid however we can\n It's hard in Lexington, and I'm feelin' less than a man\n Leaders misleadin' and weavin' rivals for fraud\n Plague like weed caught a swing from Moses' rod\n"},{"id":36803990,"name":"Being Human's Hard","trackName":"Being Human's Hard","artistName":"CunninLynguists","albumName":"Sloppy Seconds Volume Two","duration":224.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"He try leading with his heart\nWithout bleeding from his heart\nBacardi dark and blunts sparked meetings in the park\nJacques Cousteau, below city level, fleein' from sharks\nPushers playin' while police man up with snitchers and narcs\nCould cheddar be so vital a piece of my soul's survival\nTo the point to even go look for peace you load your rifle?\nPast mistakes, court dates, brand you for life\nForce hand makes the crackheads scramble for pipes\nFast grands, take your high stakes, gamble for ice\nLook at the surface of the game, dang, that'll be nice\nFigured the purpose of the game, man, that'll be life\nOr get two circles on the chain, wrists gotta be tight\nEither your head on the cruiser or the lead from the Luger\nMighta made ya some dough but ain't no bread in your future\nKinda movin' too slow, ya better spread 'fore they shoot ya\nHospital bed, can't use your legs like ya use to\n\nBeing human's hard\nBeing human's hard on the boulevard\nBeing human's hard\nBeing human's hard on the boulevard\n\nCome a little closer into the life of a smoker\nWhere paranoia is the price to be sober, over my shoulder\nSeems to be the land of the lost and the home of the slaves\nWhere soldiers carry toasters in holsters, supposed to be brave\nBut underneath the surface they purpose is lost in they ways\nThey walk in a daze, the only time they spark when they blaze\nThey off in a maze, the high life you've lost to get paid\nThe low life is when you're tossed in that cage, or in that grave\nSo I stay with an open mind, my mind's open\nWhen I'm totin' 9s on the grind hopin' over time\nI can climb to the top of the cliff\nCause right now I'm standin' at the edge stiff, I'm hopin' that I don't slip\nOne slight, false move and my life in this tight grip\nThe lose all strength in the time and be priceless\nThough my right fist is stuck in the air to show power\nMy left hand's holdin' them grams of snow powder\n\nI see dice games, I'm side bettin', makin' a killin', man\nHomies fuckin' niggas swiping rings and chains\nMoney lost now, a body picked up off ground\nThat child saw it, deafened by pain it was an assault sound\nBangs they all round, bangs on her hair\nYessir, her right there, she livin' the nightmare\nIn the couch room bounce a tip with curtains closed\nSupposed to dance but off the deck some piles a sniff she workin' poles\nSlice of onion make her cry\nCause of lack of funding standards are lowered like dungeons only to survive\nFor many life ain't half over at the end of its rope\nLike they just smoked bad dope blended with soap paint\nBut were getting paid however we can\nIt's hard in Lexington, and I'm feelin' less than a man\nLeaders misleadin' and weavin' rivals for fraud\nPlague like weed caught a swing from Moses' rod","syncedLyrics":"[00:05.38] He try leading with his heart\n[00:19.85] Without bleeding from his heart\n[00:21.69] Bacardi dark and blunts sparked meetings in the park\n[00:23.44] Jacques Cousteau, below city level, fleein' from sharks\n[00:27.19] Pushers playin' while police man up with snitchers and narcs\n[00:29.87] Could cheddar be so vital a piece of my soul's survival\n[00:32.58] To the point to even go look for peace you load your rifle?\n[00:35.28] Past mistakes, court dates, brand you for life\n[00:37.90] Force hand makes the crackheads scramble for pipes\n[00:39.73] Fast grands, take your high stakes, gamble for ice\n[00:42.47] Look at the surface of the game, dang, that'll be nice\n[00:46.06] Figured the purpose of the game, man, that'll be life\n[00:48.76] Or get two circles on the chain, wrists gotta be tight\n[00:51.41] Either your head on the cruiser or the lead from the Luger\n[00:54.24] Mighta made ya some dough but ain't no bread in your future\n[00:56.92] Kinda movin' too slow, ya better spread 'fore they shoot ya\n[00:59.67] Hospital bed, can't use your legs like ya use to\n[01:02.31] Being human's hard\n[01:07.75] Being human's hard on the boulevard\n[01:14.99] Being human's hard\n[01:18.53] Being human's hard on the boulevard\n[01:24.09] Come a little closer into the life of a smoker\n[01:26.75] Where paranoia is the price to be sober, over my shoulder\n[01:29.46] Seems to be the land of the lost and the home of the slaves\n[01:32.11] Where soldiers carry toasters in holsters, supposed to be brave\n[01:34.88] But underneath the surface they purpose is lost in they ways\n[01:37.57] They walk in a daze, the only time they spark when they blaze\n[01:40.29] They off in a maze, the high life you've lost to get paid\n[01:42.91] The low life is when you're tossed in that cage, or in that grave\n[01:45.60] So I stay with an open mind, my mind's open\n[01:48.42] When I'm totin' 9s on the grind hopin' over time\n[01:51.29] I can climb to the top of the cliff\n[01:53.06] Cause right now I'm standin' at the edge stiff, I'm hopin' that I don't slip\n[01:56.62] One slight, false move and my life in this tight grip\n[02:00.33] The lose all strength in the time and be priceless\n[02:03.05] Though my right fist is stuck in the air to show power\n[02:04.80] My left hand's holdin' them grams of snow powder\n[02:07.51] I see dice games, I'm side bettin', makin' a killin', man\n[02:32.84] Homies fuckin' niggas swiping rings and chains\n[02:34.61] Money lost now, a body picked up off ground\n[02:37.44] That child saw it, deafened by pain it was an assault sound\n[02:40.13] Bangs they all round, bangs on her hair\n[02:43.87] Yessir, her right there, she livin' the nightmare\n[02:45.61] In the couch room bounce a tip with curtains closed\n[02:49.23] Supposed to dance but off the deck some piles a sniff she workin' poles\n[02:51.92] Slice of onion make her cry\n[02:53.73] Cause of lack of funding standards are lowered like dungeons only to survive\n[02:57.41] For many life ain't half over at the end of its rope\n[03:00.14] Like they just smoked bad dope blended with soap paint\n[03:02.88] But were getting paid however we can\n[03:04.60] It's hard in Lexington, and I'm feelin' less than a man\n[03:07.38] Leaders misleadin' and weavin' rivals for fraud\n[03:10.08] Plague like weed caught a swing from Moses' rod\n[03:13.75] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Being Human's Hard\n artist: CunninLynguists\n album: Sloppy Seconds Volume Two\n duration_ms: 224000\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: He try leading with his heart\n start_ms: 5380\n end_ms: 19850\n- text: Without bleeding from his heart\n start_ms: 19850\n end_ms: 21690\n- text: Bacardi dark and blunts sparked meetings in the park\n start_ms: 21690\n end_ms: 23440\n- text: Jacques Cousteau, below city level, fleein' from sharks\n start_ms: 23440\n end_ms: 27190\n- text: Pushers playin' while police man up with snitchers and narcs\n start_ms: 27190\n end_ms: 29870\n- text: Could cheddar be so vital a piece of my soul's survival\n start_ms: 29870\n end_ms: 32580\n- text: To the point to even go look for peace you load your rifle?\n start_ms: 32580\n end_ms: 35280\n- text: Past mistakes, court dates, brand you for life\n start_ms: 35280\n end_ms: 37900\n- text: Force hand makes the crackheads scramble for pipes\n start_ms: 37900\n end_ms: 39730\n- text: Fast grands, take your high stakes, gamble for ice\n start_ms: 39730\n end_ms: 42470\n- text: Look at the surface of the game, dang, that'll be nice\n start_ms: 42470\n end_ms: 46060\n- text: Figured the purpose of the game, man, that'll be life\n start_ms: 46060\n end_ms: 48760\n- text: Or get two circles on the chain, wrists gotta be tight\n start_ms: 48760\n end_ms: 51410\n- text: Either your head on the cruiser or the lead from the Luger\n start_ms: 51410\n end_ms: 54240\n- text: Mighta made ya some dough but ain't no bread in your future\n start_ms: 54240\n end_ms: 56920\n- text: Kinda movin' too slow, ya better spread 'fore they shoot ya\n start_ms: 56920\n end_ms: 59670\n- text: Hospital bed, can't use your legs like ya use to\n start_ms: 59670\n end_ms: 62310\n- text: Being human's hard\n start_ms: 62310\n end_ms: 67750\n- text: Being human's hard on the boulevard\n start_ms: 67750\n end_ms: 74990\n- text: Being human's hard\n start_ms: 74990\n end_ms: 78530\n- text: Being human's hard on the boulevard\n start_ms: 78530\n end_ms: 84090\n- text: Come a little closer into the life of a smoker\n start_ms: 84090\n end_ms: 86750\n- text: Where paranoia is the price to be sober, over my shoulder\n start_ms: 86750\n end_ms: 89460\n- text: Seems to be the land of the lost and the home of the slaves\n start_ms: 89460\n end_ms: 92110\n- text: Where soldiers carry toasters in holsters, supposed to be brave\n start_ms: 92110\n end_ms: 94880\n- text: But underneath the surface they purpose is lost in they ways\n start_ms: 94880\n end_ms: 97570\n- text: They walk in a daze, the only time they spark when they blaze\n start_ms: 97570\n end_ms: 100290\n- text: They off in a maze, the high life you've lost to get paid\n start_ms: 100290\n end_ms: 102910\n- text: The low life is when you're tossed in that cage, or in that grave\n start_ms: 102910\n end_ms: 105600\n- text: So I stay with an open mind, my mind's open\n start_ms: 105600\n end_ms: 108420\n- text: When I'm totin' 9s on the grind hopin' over time\n start_ms: 108420\n end_ms: 111290\n- text: I can climb to the top of the cliff\n start_ms: 111290\n end_ms: 113060\n- text: Cause right now I'm standin' at the edge stiff, I'm hopin' that I don't slip\n start_ms: 113060\n end_ms: 116620\n- text: One slight, false move and my life in this tight grip\n start_ms: 116620\n end_ms: 120330\n- text: The lose all strength in the time and be priceless\n start_ms: 120330\n end_ms: 123050\n- text: Though my right fist is stuck in the air to show power\n start_ms: 123050\n end_ms: 124800\n- text: My left hand's holdin' them grams of snow powder\n start_ms: 124800\n end_ms: 127510\n- text: I see dice games, I'm side bettin', makin' a killin', man\n start_ms: 127510\n end_ms: 152840\n- text: Homies fuckin' niggas swiping rings and chains\n start_ms: 152840\n end_ms: 154610\n- text: Money lost now, a body picked up off ground\n start_ms: 154610\n end_ms: 157440\n- text: That child saw it, deafened by pain it was an assault sound\n start_ms: 157440\n end_ms: 160130\n- text: Bangs they all round, bangs on her hair\n start_ms: 160130\n end_ms: 163870\n- text: Yessir, her right there, she livin' the nightmare\n start_ms: 163870\n end_ms: 165610\n- text: In the couch room bounce a tip with curtains closed\n start_ms: 165610\n end_ms: 169230\n- text: Supposed to dance but off the deck some piles a sniff she workin' poles\n start_ms: 169230\n end_ms: 171920\n- text: Slice of onion make her cry\n start_ms: 171920\n end_ms: 173730\n- text: Cause of lack of funding standards are lowered like dungeons only to survive\n start_ms: 173730\n end_ms: 177410\n- text: For many life ain't half over at the end of its rope\n start_ms: 177410\n end_ms: 180140\n- text: Like they just smoked bad dope blended with soap paint\n start_ms: 180140\n end_ms: 182880\n- text: But were getting paid however we can\n start_ms: 182880\n end_ms: 184600\n- text: It's hard in Lexington, and I'm feelin' less than a man\n start_ms: 184600\n end_ms: 187380\n- text: Leaders misleadin' and weavin' rivals for fraud\n start_ms: 187380\n end_ms: 190080\n- text: Plague like weed caught a swing from Moses' rod\n start_ms: 190080\n end_ms: 193750\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 193750\nplain: |-\n He try leading with his heart\n Without bleeding from his heart\n Bacardi dark and blunts sparked meetings in the park\n Jacques Cousteau, below city level, fleein' from sharks\n Pushers playin' while police man up with snitchers and narcs\n Could cheddar be so vital a piece of my soul's survival\n To the point to even go look for peace you load your rifle?\n Past mistakes, court dates, brand you for life\n Force hand makes the crackheads scramble for pipes\n Fast grands, take your high stakes, gamble for ice\n Look at the surface of the game, dang, that'll be nice\n Figured the purpose of the game, man, that'll be life\n Or get two circles on the chain, wrists gotta be tight\n Either your head on the cruiser or the lead from the Luger\n Mighta made ya some dough but ain't no bread in your future\n Kinda movin' too slow, ya better spread 'fore they shoot ya\n Hospital bed, can't use your legs like ya use to\n\n Being human's hard\n Being human's hard on the boulevard\n Being human's hard\n Being human's hard on the boulevard\n\n Come a little closer into the life of a smoker\n Where paranoia is the price to be sober, over my shoulder\n Seems to be the land of the lost and the home of the slaves\n Where soldiers carry toasters in holsters, supposed to be brave\n But underneath the surface they purpose is lost in they ways\n They walk in a daze, the only time they spark when they blaze\n They off in a maze, the high life you've lost to get paid\n The low life is when you're tossed in that cage, or in that grave\n So I stay with an open mind, my mind's open\n When I'm totin' 9s on the grind hopin' over time\n I can climb to the top of the cliff\n Cause right now I'm standin' at the edge stiff, I'm hopin' that I don't slip\n One slight, false move and my life in this tight grip\n The lose all strength in the time and be priceless\n Though my right fist is stuck in the air to show power\n My left hand's holdin' them grams of snow powder\n\n I see dice games, I'm side bettin', makin' a killin', man\n Homies fuckin' niggas swiping rings and chains\n Money lost now, a body picked up off ground\n That child saw it, deafened by pain it was an assault sound\n Bangs they all round, bangs on her hair\n Yessir, her right there, she livin' the nightmare\n In the couch room bounce a tip with curtains closed\n Supposed to dance but off the deck some piles a sniff she workin' poles\n Slice of onion make her cry\n Cause of lack of funding standards are lowered like dungeons only to survive\n For many life ain't half over at the end of its rope\n Like they just smoked bad dope blended with soap paint\n But were getting paid however we can\n It's hard in Lexington, and I'm feelin' less than a man\n Leaders misleadin' and weavin' rivals for fraud\n Plague like weed caught a swing from Moses' rod\n"},{"id":27894441,"name":"Being Human's Hard (feat. Vers","trackName":"Being Human's Hard (feat. Vers","artistName":"Cunninlynguists","albumName":"Sloppy Seconds, Volume 2","duration":224.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"He try leading with his heart\nWithout bleeding from his heart\nBacardi dark and blunts sparked meetings in the park\nJacques Cousteau, below city level, fleein' from sharks\nPushers playin' while police man up with snitchers and narcs\nCould cheddar be so vital a piece of my soul's survival\nTo the point to even go look for peace you load your rifle?\nPast mistakes, court dates, brand you for life\nForce hand makes the crackheads scramble for pipes\nFast grands, take your high stakes, gamble for ice\nLook at the surface of the game, dang, that'll be nice\nFigured the purpose of the game, man, that'll be life\nOr get two circles on the chain, wrists gotta be tight\nEither your head on the cruiser or the lead from the Luger\nMighta made ya some dough but ain't no bread in your future\nKinda movin' too slow, ya better spread 'fore they shoot ya\nHospital bed, can't use your legs like ya use to\n\nBeing human's hard\nBeing human's hard on the boulevard\nBeing human's hard\nBeing human's hard on the boulevard\n\nCome a little closer into the life of a smoker\nWhere paranoia is the price to be sober, over my shoulder\nSeems to be the land of the lost and the home of the slaves\nWhere soldiers carry toasters in holsters, supposed to be brave\nBut underneath the surface they purpose is lost in they ways\nThey walk in a daze, the only time they spark when they blaze\nThey off in a maze, the high life you've lost to get paid\nThe low life is when you're tossed in that cage, or in that grave\nSo I stay with an open mind, my mind's open\nWhen I'm totin' 9s on the grind hopin' over time\nI can climb to the top of the cliff\nCause right now I'm standin' at the edge stiff, I'm hopin' that I don't slip\nOne slight, false move and my life in this tight grip\nThe lose all strength in the time and be priceless\nThough my right fist is stuck in the air to show power\nMy left hand's holdin' them grams of snow powder\n\nI see dice games, I'm side bettin', makin' a killin', man\nHomies fuckin' niggas swiping rings and chains\nMoney lost now, a body picked up off ground\nThat child saw it, deafened by pain it was an assault sound\nBangs they all round, bangs on her hair\nYessir, her right there, she livin' the nightmare\nIn the couch room bounce a tip with curtains closed\nSupposed to dance but off the deck some piles a sniff she workin' poles\nSlice of onion make her cry\nCause of lack of funding standards are lowered like dungeons only to survive\nFor many life ain't half over at the end of its rope\nLike they just smoked bad dope blended with soap paint\nBut were getting paid however we can\nIt's hard in Lexington, and I'm feelin' less than a man\nLeaders misleadin' and weavin' rivals for fraud\nPlague like weed caught a swing from Moses' rod","syncedLyrics":"[00:05.38] He try leading with his heart\n[00:19.85] Without bleeding from his heart\n[00:21.69] Bacardi dark and blunts sparked meetings in the park\n[00:23.44] Jacques Cousteau, below city level, fleein' from sharks\n[00:27.19] Pushers playin' while police man up with snitchers and narcs\n[00:29.87] Could cheddar be so vital a piece of my soul's survival\n[00:32.58] To the point to even go look for peace you load your rifle?\n[00:35.28] Past mistakes, court dates, brand you for life\n[00:37.90] Force hand makes the crackheads scramble for pipes\n[00:39.73] Fast grands, take your high stakes, gamble for ice\n[00:42.47] Look at the surface of the game, dang, that'll be nice\n[00:46.06] Figured the purpose of the game, man, that'll be life\n[00:48.76] Or get two circles on the chain, wrists gotta be tight\n[00:51.41] Either your head on the cruiser or the lead from the Luger\n[00:54.24] Mighta made ya some dough but ain't no bread in your future\n[00:56.92] Kinda movin' too slow, ya better spread 'fore they shoot ya\n[00:59.67] Hospital bed, can't use your legs like ya use to\n[01:02.31] Being human's hard\n[01:07.75] Being human's hard on the boulevard\n[01:14.99] Being human's hard\n[01:18.53] Being human's hard on the boulevard\n[01:24.09] Come a little closer into the life of a smoker\n[01:26.75] Where paranoia is the price to be sober, over my shoulder\n[01:29.46] Seems to be the land of the lost and the home of the slaves\n[01:32.11] Where soldiers carry toasters in holsters, supposed to be brave\n[01:34.88] But underneath the surface they purpose is lost in they ways\n[01:37.57] They walk in a daze, the only time they spark when they blaze\n[01:40.29] They off in a maze, the high life you've lost to get paid\n[01:42.91] The low life is when you're tossed in that cage, or in that grave\n[01:45.60] So I stay with an open mind, my mind's open\n[01:48.42] When I'm totin' 9s on the grind hopin' over time\n[01:51.29] I can climb to the top of the cliff\n[01:53.06] Cause right now I'm standin' at the edge stiff, I'm hopin' that I don't slip\n[01:56.62] One slight, false move and my life in this tight grip\n[02:00.33] The lose all strength in the time and be priceless\n[02:03.05] Though my right fist is stuck in the air to show power\n[02:04.80] My left hand's holdin' them grams of snow powder\n[02:07.51] I see dice games, I'm side bettin', makin' a killin', man\n[02:32.84] Homies fuckin' niggas swiping rings and chains\n[02:34.61] Money lost now, a body picked up off ground\n[02:37.44] That child saw it, deafened by pain it was an assault sound\n[02:40.13] Bangs they all round, bangs on her hair\n[02:43.87] Yessir, her right there, she livin' the nightmare\n[02:45.61] In the couch room bounce a tip with curtains closed\n[02:49.23] Supposed to dance but off the deck some piles a sniff she workin' poles\n[02:51.92] Slice of onion make her cry\n[02:53.73] Cause of lack of funding standards are lowered like dungeons only to survive\n[02:57.41] For many life ain't half over at the end of its rope\n[03:00.14] Like they just smoked bad dope blended with soap paint\n[03:02.88] But were getting paid however we can\n[03:04.60] It's hard in Lexington, and I'm feelin' less than a man\n[03:07.38] Leaders misleadin' and weavin' rivals for fraud\n[03:10.08] Plague like weed caught a swing from Moses' rod\n[03:13.75] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Being Human's Hard (feat. Vers\n artist: Cunninlynguists\n album: Sloppy Seconds, Volume 2\n duration_ms: 224000\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: He try leading with his heart\n start_ms: 5380\n end_ms: 19850\n- text: Without bleeding from his heart\n start_ms: 19850\n end_ms: 21690\n- text: Bacardi dark and blunts sparked meetings in the park\n start_ms: 21690\n end_ms: 23440\n- text: Jacques Cousteau, below city level, fleein' from sharks\n start_ms: 23440\n end_ms: 27190\n- text: Pushers playin' while police man up with snitchers and narcs\n start_ms: 27190\n end_ms: 29870\n- text: Could cheddar be so vital a piece of my soul's survival\n start_ms: 29870\n end_ms: 32580\n- text: To the point to even go look for peace you load your rifle?\n start_ms: 32580\n end_ms: 35280\n- text: Past mistakes, court dates, brand you for life\n start_ms: 35280\n end_ms: 37900\n- text: Force hand makes the crackheads scramble for pipes\n start_ms: 37900\n end_ms: 39730\n- text: Fast grands, take your high stakes, gamble for ice\n start_ms: 39730\n end_ms: 42470\n- text: Look at the surface of the game, dang, that'll be nice\n start_ms: 42470\n end_ms: 46060\n- text: Figured the purpose of the game, man, that'll be life\n start_ms: 46060\n end_ms: 48760\n- text: Or get two circles on the chain, wrists gotta be tight\n start_ms: 48760\n end_ms: 51410\n- text: Either your head on the cruiser or the lead from the Luger\n start_ms: 51410\n end_ms: 54240\n- text: Mighta made ya some dough but ain't no bread in your future\n start_ms: 54240\n end_ms: 56920\n- text: Kinda movin' too slow, ya better spread 'fore they shoot ya\n start_ms: 56920\n end_ms: 59670\n- text: Hospital bed, can't use your legs like ya use to\n start_ms: 59670\n end_ms: 62310\n- text: Being human's hard\n start_ms: 62310\n end_ms: 67750\n- text: Being human's hard on the boulevard\n start_ms: 67750\n end_ms: 74990\n- text: Being human's hard\n start_ms: 74990\n end_ms: 78530\n- text: Being human's hard on the boulevard\n start_ms: 78530\n end_ms: 84090\n- text: Come a little closer into the life of a smoker\n start_ms: 84090\n end_ms: 86750\n- text: Where paranoia is the price to be sober, over my shoulder\n start_ms: 86750\n end_ms: 89460\n- text: Seems to be the land of the lost and the home of the slaves\n start_ms: 89460\n end_ms: 92110\n- text: Where soldiers carry toasters in holsters, supposed to be brave\n start_ms: 92110\n end_ms: 94880\n- text: But underneath the surface they purpose is lost in they ways\n start_ms: 94880\n end_ms: 97570\n- text: They walk in a daze, the only time they spark when they blaze\n start_ms: 97570\n end_ms: 100290\n- text: They off in a maze, the high life you've lost to get paid\n start_ms: 100290\n end_ms: 102910\n- text: The low life is when you're tossed in that cage, or in that grave\n start_ms: 102910\n end_ms: 105600\n- text: So I stay with an open mind, my mind's open\n start_ms: 105600\n end_ms: 108420\n- text: When I'm totin' 9s on the grind hopin' over time\n start_ms: 108420\n end_ms: 111290\n- text: I can climb to the top of the cliff\n start_ms: 111290\n end_ms: 113060\n- text: Cause right now I'm standin' at the edge stiff, I'm hopin' that I don't slip\n start_ms: 113060\n end_ms: 116620\n- text: One slight, false move and my life in this tight grip\n start_ms: 116620\n end_ms: 120330\n- text: The lose all strength in the time and be priceless\n start_ms: 120330\n end_ms: 123050\n- text: Though my right fist is stuck in the air to show power\n start_ms: 123050\n end_ms: 124800\n- text: My left hand's holdin' them grams of snow powder\n start_ms: 124800\n end_ms: 127510\n- text: I see dice games, I'm side bettin', makin' a killin', man\n start_ms: 127510\n end_ms: 152840\n- text: Homies fuckin' niggas swiping rings and chains\n start_ms: 152840\n end_ms: 154610\n- text: Money lost now, a body picked up off ground\n start_ms: 154610\n end_ms: 157440\n- text: That child saw it, deafened by pain it was an assault sound\n start_ms: 157440\n end_ms: 160130\n- text: Bangs they all round, bangs on her hair\n start_ms: 160130\n end_ms: 163870\n- text: Yessir, her right there, she livin' the nightmare\n start_ms: 163870\n end_ms: 165610\n- text: In the couch room bounce a tip with curtains closed\n start_ms: 165610\n end_ms: 169230\n- text: Supposed to dance but off the deck some piles a sniff she workin' poles\n start_ms: 169230\n end_ms: 171920\n- text: Slice of onion make her cry\n start_ms: 171920\n end_ms: 173730\n- text: Cause of lack of funding standards are lowered like dungeons only to survive\n start_ms: 173730\n end_ms: 177410\n- text: For many life ain't half over at the end of its rope\n start_ms: 177410\n end_ms: 180140\n- text: Like they just smoked bad dope blended with soap paint\n start_ms: 180140\n end_ms: 182880\n- text: But were getting paid however we can\n start_ms: 182880\n end_ms: 184600\n- text: It's hard in Lexington, and I'm feelin' less than a man\n start_ms: 184600\n end_ms: 187380\n- text: Leaders misleadin' and weavin' rivals for fraud\n start_ms: 187380\n end_ms: 190080\n- text: Plague like weed caught a swing from Moses' rod\n start_ms: 190080\n end_ms: 193750\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 193750\nplain: |-\n He try leading with his heart\n Without bleeding from his heart\n Bacardi dark and blunts sparked meetings in the park\n Jacques Cousteau, below city level, fleein' from sharks\n Pushers playin' while police man up with snitchers and narcs\n Could cheddar be so vital a piece of my soul's survival\n To the point to even go look for peace you load your rifle?\n Past mistakes, court dates, brand you for life\n Force hand makes the crackheads scramble for pipes\n Fast grands, take your high stakes, gamble for ice\n Look at the surface of the game, dang, that'll be nice\n Figured the purpose of the game, man, that'll be life\n Or get two circles on the chain, wrists gotta be tight\n Either your head on the cruiser or the lead from the Luger\n Mighta made ya some dough but ain't no bread in your future\n Kinda movin' too slow, ya better spread 'fore they shoot ya\n Hospital bed, can't use your legs like ya use to\n\n Being human's hard\n Being human's hard on the boulevard\n Being human's hard\n Being human's hard on the boulevard\n\n Come a little closer into the life of a smoker\n Where paranoia is the price to be sober, over my shoulder\n Seems to be the land of the lost and the home of the slaves\n Where soldiers carry toasters in holsters, supposed to be brave\n But underneath the surface they purpose is lost in they ways\n They walk in a daze, the only time they spark when they blaze\n They off in a maze, the high life you've lost to get paid\n The low life is when you're tossed in that cage, or in that grave\n So I stay with an open mind, my mind's open\n When I'm totin' 9s on the grind hopin' over time\n I can climb to the top of the cliff\n Cause right now I'm standin' at the edge stiff, I'm hopin' that I don't slip\n One slight, false move and my life in this tight grip\n The lose all strength in the time and be priceless\n Though my right fist is stuck in the air to show power\n My left hand's holdin' them grams of snow powder\n\n I see dice games, I'm side bettin', makin' a killin', man\n Homies fuckin' niggas swiping rings and chains\n Money lost now, a body picked up off ground\n That child saw it, deafened by pain it was an assault sound\n Bangs they all round, bangs on her hair\n Yessir, her right there, she livin' the nightmare\n In the couch room bounce a tip with curtains closed\n Supposed to dance but off the deck some piles a sniff she workin' poles\n Slice of onion make her cry\n Cause of lack of funding standards are lowered like dungeons only to survive\n For many life ain't half over at the end of its rope\n Like they just smoked bad dope blended with soap paint\n But were getting paid however we can\n It's hard in Lexington, and I'm feelin' less than a man\n Leaders misleadin' and weavin' rivals for fraud\n Plague like weed caught a swing from Moses' rod\n"},{"id":9168528,"name":"Being Human's Hard (ft. Versatile) - Kynfolk","trackName":"Being Human's Hard (ft. Versatile) - Kynfolk","artistName":"CunninLynguists","albumName":"Sloppy Seconds Volume Two","duration":224.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"He try leading with his heart\nWithout bleeding from his heart\nBacardi dark and blunts sparked meetings in the park\nJacques Cousteau, below city level, fleein' from sharks\nPushers playin' while police man up with snitchers and narcs\nCould cheddar be so vital a piece of my soul's survival\nTo the point to even go look for peace you load your rifle?\nPast mistakes, court dates, brand you for life\nForce hand makes the crackheads scramble for pipes\nFast grands, take your high stakes, gamble for ice\nLook at the surface of the game, dang, that'll be nice\nFigured the purpose of the game, man, that'll be life\nOr get two circles on the chain, wrists gotta be tight\nEither your head on the cruiser or the lead from the Luger\nMighta made ya some dough but ain't no bread in your future\nKinda movin' too slow, ya better spread 'fore they shoot ya\nHospital bed, can't use your legs like ya use to\n\nBeing human's hard\nBeing human's hard on the boulevard\nBeing human's hard\nBeing human's hard on the boulevard\n\nCome a little closer into the life of a smoker\nWhere paranoia is the price to be sober, over my shoulder\nSeems to be the land of the lost and the home of the slaves\nWhere soldiers carry toasters in holsters, supposed to be brave\nBut underneath the surface they purpose is lost in they ways\nThey walk in a daze, the only time they spark when they blaze\nThey off in a maze, the high life you've lost to get paid\nThe low life is when you're tossed in that cage, or in that grave\nSo I stay with an open mind, my mind's open\nWhen I'm totin' 9s on the grind hopin' over time\nI can climb to the top of the cliff\nCause right now I'm standin' at the edge stiff, I'm hopin' that I don't slip\nOne slight, false move and my life in this tight grip\nThe lose all strength in the time and be priceless\nThough my right fist is stuck in the air to show power\nMy left hand's holdin' them grams of snow powder\n\nI see dice games, I'm side bettin', makin' a killin', man\nHomies fuckin' niggas swiping rings and chains\nMoney lost now, a body picked up off ground\nThat child saw it, deafened by pain it was an assault sound\nBangs they all round, bangs on her hair\nYessir, her right there, she livin' the nightmare\nIn the couch room bounce a tip with curtains closed\nSupposed to dance but off the deck some piles a sniff she workin' poles\nSlice of onion make her cry\nCause of lack of funding standards are lowered like dungeons only to survive\nFor many life ain't half over at the end of its rope\nLike they just smoked bad dope blended with soap paint\nBut were getting paid however we can\nIt's hard in Lexington, and I'm feelin' less than a man\nLeaders misleadin' and weavin' rivals for fraud\nPlague like weed caught a swing from Moses' rod","syncedLyrics":"[00:05.38] He try leading with his heart\n[00:19.85] Without bleeding from his heart\n[00:21.69] Bacardi dark and blunts sparked meetings in the park\n[00:23.44] Jacques Cousteau, below city level, fleein' from sharks\n[00:27.19] Pushers playin' while police man up with snitchers and narcs\n[00:29.87] Could cheddar be so vital a piece of my soul's survival\n[00:32.58] To the point to even go look for peace you load your rifle?\n[00:35.28] Past mistakes, court dates, brand you for life\n[00:37.90] Force hand makes the crackheads scramble for pipes\n[00:39.73] Fast grands, take your high stakes, gamble for ice\n[00:42.47] Look at the surface of the game, dang, that'll be nice\n[00:46.06] Figured the purpose of the game, man, that'll be life\n[00:48.76] Or get two circles on the chain, wrists gotta be tight\n[00:51.41] Either your head on the cruiser or the lead from the Luger\n[00:54.24] Mighta made ya some dough but ain't no bread in your future\n[00:56.92] Kinda movin' too slow, ya better spread 'fore they shoot ya\n[00:59.67] Hospital bed, can't use your legs like ya use to\n[01:02.31] Being human's hard\n[01:07.75] Being human's hard on the boulevard\n[01:14.99] Being human's hard\n[01:18.53] Being human's hard on the boulevard\n[01:24.09] Come a little closer into the life of a smoker\n[01:26.75] Where paranoia is the price to be sober, over my shoulder\n[01:29.46] Seems to be the land of the lost and the home of the slaves\n[01:32.11] Where soldiers carry toasters in holsters, supposed to be brave\n[01:34.88] But underneath the surface they purpose is lost in they ways\n[01:37.57] They walk in a daze, the only time they spark when they blaze\n[01:40.29] They off in a maze, the high life you've lost to get paid\n[01:42.91] The low life is when you're tossed in that cage, or in that grave\n[01:45.60] So I stay with an open mind, my mind's open\n[01:48.42] When I'm totin' 9s on the grind hopin' over time\n[01:51.29] I can climb to the top of the cliff\n[01:53.06] Cause right now I'm standin' at the edge stiff, I'm hopin' that I don't slip\n[01:56.62] One slight, false move and my life in this tight grip\n[02:00.33] The lose all strength in the time and be priceless\n[02:03.05] Though my right fist is stuck in the air to show power\n[02:04.80] My left hand's holdin' them grams of snow powder\n[02:07.51] I see dice games, I'm side bettin', makin' a killin', man\n[02:32.84] Homies fuckin' niggas swiping rings and chains\n[02:34.61] Money lost now, a body picked up off ground\n[02:37.44] That child saw it, deafened by pain it was an assault sound\n[02:40.13] Bangs they all round, bangs on her hair\n[02:43.87] Yessir, her right there, she livin' the nightmare\n[02:45.61] In the couch room bounce a tip with curtains closed\n[02:49.23] Supposed to dance but off the deck some piles a sniff she workin' poles\n[02:51.92] Slice of onion make her cry\n[02:53.73] Cause of lack of funding standards are lowered like dungeons only to survive\n[02:57.41] For many life ain't half over at the end of its rope\n[03:00.14] Like they just smoked bad dope blended with soap paint\n[03:02.88] But were getting paid however we can\n[03:04.60] It's hard in Lexington, and I'm feelin' less than a man\n[03:07.38] Leaders misleadin' and weavin' rivals for fraud\n[03:10.08] Plague like weed caught a swing from Moses' rod\n[03:13.75] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Being Human's Hard (ft. Versatile) - Kynfolk\n artist: CunninLynguists\n album: Sloppy Seconds Volume Two\n duration_ms: 224000\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: He try leading with his heart\n start_ms: 5380\n end_ms: 19850\n- text: Without bleeding from his heart\n start_ms: 19850\n end_ms: 21690\n- text: Bacardi dark and blunts sparked meetings in the park\n start_ms: 21690\n end_ms: 23440\n- text: Jacques Cousteau, below city level, fleein' from sharks\n start_ms: 23440\n end_ms: 27190\n- text: Pushers playin' while police man up with snitchers and narcs\n start_ms: 27190\n end_ms: 29870\n- text: Could cheddar be so vital a piece of my soul's survival\n start_ms: 29870\n end_ms: 32580\n- text: To the point to even go look for peace you load your rifle?\n start_ms: 32580\n end_ms: 35280\n- text: Past mistakes, court dates, brand you for life\n start_ms: 35280\n end_ms: 37900\n- text: Force hand makes the crackheads scramble for pipes\n start_ms: 37900\n end_ms: 39730\n- text: Fast grands, take your high stakes, gamble for ice\n start_ms: 39730\n end_ms: 42470\n- text: Look at the surface of the game, dang, that'll be nice\n start_ms: 42470\n end_ms: 46060\n- text: Figured the purpose of the game, man, that'll be life\n start_ms: 46060\n end_ms: 48760\n- text: Or get two circles on the chain, wrists gotta be tight\n start_ms: 48760\n end_ms: 51410\n- text: Either your head on the cruiser or the lead from the Luger\n start_ms: 51410\n end_ms: 54240\n- text: Mighta made ya some dough but ain't no bread in your future\n start_ms: 54240\n end_ms: 56920\n- text: Kinda movin' too slow, ya better spread 'fore they shoot ya\n start_ms: 56920\n end_ms: 59670\n- text: Hospital bed, can't use your legs like ya use to\n start_ms: 59670\n end_ms: 62310\n- text: Being human's hard\n start_ms: 62310\n end_ms: 67750\n- text: Being human's hard on the boulevard\n start_ms: 67750\n end_ms: 74990\n- text: Being human's hard\n start_ms: 74990\n end_ms: 78530\n- text: Being human's hard on the boulevard\n start_ms: 78530\n end_ms: 84090\n- text: Come a little closer into the life of a smoker\n start_ms: 84090\n end_ms: 86750\n- text: Where paranoia is the price to be sober, over my shoulder\n start_ms: 86750\n end_ms: 89460\n- text: Seems to be the land of the lost and the home of the slaves\n start_ms: 89460\n end_ms: 92110\n- text: Where soldiers carry toasters in holsters, supposed to be brave\n start_ms: 92110\n end_ms: 94880\n- text: But underneath the surface they purpose is lost in they ways\n start_ms: 94880\n end_ms: 97570\n- text: They walk in a daze, the only time they spark when they blaze\n start_ms: 97570\n end_ms: 100290\n- text: They off in a maze, the high life you've lost to get paid\n start_ms: 100290\n end_ms: 102910\n- text: The low life is when you're tossed in that cage, or in that grave\n start_ms: 102910\n end_ms: 105600\n- text: So I stay with an open mind, my mind's open\n start_ms: 105600\n end_ms: 108420\n- text: When I'm totin' 9s on the grind hopin' over time\n start_ms: 108420\n end_ms: 111290\n- text: I can climb to the top of the cliff\n start_ms: 111290\n end_ms: 113060\n- text: Cause right now I'm standin' at the edge stiff, I'm hopin' that I don't slip\n start_ms: 113060\n end_ms: 116620\n- text: One slight, false move and my life in this tight grip\n start_ms: 116620\n end_ms: 120330\n- text: The lose all strength in the time and be priceless\n start_ms: 120330\n end_ms: 123050\n- text: Though my right fist is stuck in the air to show power\n start_ms: 123050\n end_ms: 124800\n- text: My left hand's holdin' them grams of snow powder\n start_ms: 124800\n end_ms: 127510\n- text: I see dice games, I'm side bettin', makin' a killin', man\n start_ms: 127510\n end_ms: 152840\n- text: Homies fuckin' niggas swiping rings and chains\n start_ms: 152840\n end_ms: 154610\n- text: Money lost now, a body picked up off ground\n start_ms: 154610\n end_ms: 157440\n- text: That child saw it, deafened by pain it was an assault sound\n start_ms: 157440\n end_ms: 160130\n- text: Bangs they all round, bangs on her hair\n start_ms: 160130\n end_ms: 163870\n- text: Yessir, her right there, she livin' the nightmare\n start_ms: 163870\n end_ms: 165610\n- text: In the couch room bounce a tip with curtains closed\n start_ms: 165610\n end_ms: 169230\n- text: Supposed to dance but off the deck some piles a sniff she workin' poles\n start_ms: 169230\n end_ms: 171920\n- text: Slice of onion make her cry\n start_ms: 171920\n end_ms: 173730\n- text: Cause of lack of funding standards are lowered like dungeons only to survive\n start_ms: 173730\n end_ms: 177410\n- text: For many life ain't half over at the end of its rope\n start_ms: 177410\n end_ms: 180140\n- text: Like they just smoked bad dope blended with soap paint\n start_ms: 180140\n end_ms: 182880\n- text: But were getting paid however we can\n start_ms: 182880\n end_ms: 184600\n- text: It's hard in Lexington, and I'm feelin' less than a man\n start_ms: 184600\n end_ms: 187380\n- text: Leaders misleadin' and weavin' rivals for fraud\n start_ms: 187380\n end_ms: 190080\n- text: Plague like weed caught a swing from Moses' rod\n start_ms: 190080\n end_ms: 193750\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 193750\nplain: |-\n He try leading with his heart\n Without bleeding from his heart\n Bacardi dark and blunts sparked meetings in the park\n Jacques Cousteau, below city level, fleein' from sharks\n Pushers playin' while police man up with snitchers and narcs\n Could cheddar be so vital a piece of my soul's survival\n To the point to even go look for peace you load your rifle?\n Past mistakes, court dates, brand you for life\n Force hand makes the crackheads scramble for pipes\n Fast grands, take your high stakes, gamble for ice\n Look at the surface of the game, dang, that'll be nice\n Figured the purpose of the game, man, that'll be life\n Or get two circles on the chain, wrists gotta be tight\n Either your head on the cruiser or the lead from the Luger\n Mighta made ya some dough but ain't no bread in your future\n Kinda movin' too slow, ya better spread 'fore they shoot ya\n Hospital bed, can't use your legs like ya use to\n\n Being human's hard\n Being human's hard on the boulevard\n Being human's hard\n Being human's hard on the boulevard\n\n Come a little closer into the life of a smoker\n Where paranoia is the price to be sober, over my shoulder\n Seems to be the land of the lost and the home of the slaves\n Where soldiers carry toasters in holsters, supposed to be brave\n But underneath the surface they purpose is lost in they ways\n They walk in a daze, the only time they spark when they blaze\n They off in a maze, the high life you've lost to get paid\n The low life is when you're tossed in that cage, or in that grave\n So I stay with an open mind, my mind's open\n When I'm totin' 9s on the grind hopin' over time\n I can climb to the top of the cliff\n Cause right now I'm standin' at the edge stiff, I'm hopin' that I don't slip\n One slight, false move and my life in this tight grip\n The lose all strength in the time and be priceless\n Though my right fist is stuck in the air to show power\n My left hand's holdin' them grams of snow powder\n\n I see dice games, I'm side bettin', makin' a killin', man\n Homies fuckin' niggas swiping rings and chains\n Money lost now, a body picked up off ground\n That child saw it, deafened by pain it was an assault sound\n Bangs they all round, bangs on her hair\n Yessir, her right there, she livin' the nightmare\n In the couch room bounce a tip with curtains closed\n Supposed to dance but off the deck some piles a sniff she workin' poles\n Slice of onion make her cry\n Cause of lack of funding standards are lowered like dungeons only to survive\n For many life ain't half over at the end of its rope\n Like they just smoked bad dope blended with soap paint\n But were getting paid however we can\n It's hard in Lexington, and I'm feelin' less than a man\n Leaders misleadin' and weavin' rivals for fraud\n Plague like weed caught a swing from Moses' rod\n"},{"id":22073861,"name":"Being Human's Hard (ft. Versatile) - Kynfolk","trackName":"Being Human's Hard (ft. Versatile) - Kynfolk","artistName":"CunninLynguists","albumName":"Sloppy Seconds Vol. 2","duration":223.79102,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"He try leading with his heart\nWithout bleeding from his heart\nBacardi dark and blunts sparked meetings in the park\nJacques Cousteau, below city level, fleein' from sharks\nPushers playin' while police man up with snitchers and narcs\nCould cheddar be so vital a piece of my soul's survival\nTo the point to even go look for peace you load your rifle?\nPast mistakes, court dates, brand you for life\nForce hand makes the crackheads scramble for pipes\nFast grands, take your high stakes, gamble for ice\nLook at the surface of the game, dang, that'll be nice\nFigured the purpose of the game, man, that'll be life\nOr get two circles on the chain, wrists gotta be tight\nEither your head on the cruiser or the lead from the Luger\nMighta made ya some dough but ain't no bread in your future\nKinda movin' too slow, ya better spread 'fore they shoot ya\nHospital bed, can't use your legs like ya use to\n\nBeing human's hard\nBeing human's hard on the boulevard\nBeing human's hard\nBeing human's hard on the boulevard\n\nCome a little closer into the life of a smoker\nWhere paranoia is the price to be sober, over my shoulder\nSeems to be the land of the lost and the home of the slaves\nWhere soldiers carry toasters in holsters, supposed to be brave\nBut underneath the surface they purpose is lost in they ways\nThey walk in a daze, the only time they spark when they blaze\nThey off in a maze, the high life you've lost to get paid\nThe low life is when you're tossed in that cage, or in that grave\nSo I stay with an open mind, my mind's open\nWhen I'm totin' 9s on the grind hopin' over time\nI can climb to the top of the cliff\nCause right now I'm standin' at the edge stiff, I'm hopin' that I don't slip\nOne slight, false move and my life in this tight grip\nThe lose all strength in the time and be priceless\nThough my right fist is stuck in the air to show power\nMy left hand's holdin' them grams of snow powder\n\nI see dice games, I'm side bettin', makin' a killin', man\nHomies fuckin' niggas swiping rings and chains\nMoney lost now, a body picked up off ground\nThat child saw it, deafened by pain it was an assault sound\nBangs they all round, bangs on her hair\nYessir, her right there, she livin' the nightmare\nIn the couch room bounce a tip with curtains closed\nSupposed to dance but off the deck some piles a sniff she workin' poles\nSlice of onion make her cry\nCause of lack of funding standards are lowered like dungeons only to survive\nFor many life ain't half over at the end of its rope\nLike they just smoked bad dope blended with soap paint\nBut were getting paid however we can\nIt's hard in Lexington, and I'm feelin' less than a man\nLeaders misleadin' and weavin' rivals for fraud\nPlague like weed caught a swing from Moses' rod","syncedLyrics":"[00:05.38] He try leading with his heart\n[00:19.85] Without bleeding from his heart\n[00:21.69] Bacardi dark and blunts sparked meetings in the park\n[00:23.44] Jacques Cousteau, below city level, fleein' from sharks\n[00:27.19] Pushers playin' while police man up with snitchers and narcs\n[00:29.87] Could cheddar be so vital a piece of my soul's survival\n[00:32.58] To the point to even go look for peace you load your rifle?\n[00:35.28] Past mistakes, court dates, brand you for life\n[00:37.90] Force hand makes the crackheads scramble for pipes\n[00:39.73] Fast grands, take your high stakes, gamble for ice\n[00:42.47] Look at the surface of the game, dang, that'll be nice\n[00:46.06] Figured the purpose of the game, man, that'll be life\n[00:48.76] Or get two circles on the chain, wrists gotta be tight\n[00:51.41] Either your head on the cruiser or the lead from the Luger\n[00:54.24] Mighta made ya some dough but ain't no bread in your future\n[00:56.92] Kinda movin' too slow, ya better spread 'fore they shoot ya\n[00:59.67] Hospital bed, can't use your legs like ya use to\n[01:02.31] Being human's hard\n[01:07.75] Being human's hard on the boulevard\n[01:14.99] Being human's hard\n[01:18.53] Being human's hard on the boulevard\n[01:24.09] Come a little closer into the life of a smoker\n[01:26.75] Where paranoia is the price to be sober, over my shoulder\n[01:29.46] Seems to be the land of the lost and the home of the slaves\n[01:32.11] Where soldiers carry toasters in holsters, supposed to be brave\n[01:34.88] But underneath the surface they purpose is lost in they ways\n[01:37.57] They walk in a daze, the only time they spark when they blaze\n[01:40.29] They off in a maze, the high life you've lost to get paid\n[01:42.91] The low life is when you're tossed in that cage, or in that grave\n[01:45.60] So I stay with an open mind, my mind's open\n[01:48.42] When I'm totin' 9s on the grind hopin' over time\n[01:51.29] I can climb to the top of the cliff\n[01:53.06] Cause right now I'm standin' at the edge stiff, I'm hopin' that I don't slip\n[01:56.62] One slight, false move and my life in this tight grip\n[02:00.33] The lose all strength in the time and be priceless\n[02:03.05] Though my right fist is stuck in the air to show power\n[02:04.80] My left hand's holdin' them grams of snow powder\n[02:07.51] I see dice games, I'm side bettin', makin' a killin', man\n[02:32.84] Homies fuckin' niggas swiping rings and chains\n[02:34.61] Money lost now, a body picked up off ground\n[02:37.44] That child saw it, deafened by pain it was an assault sound\n[02:40.13] Bangs they all round, bangs on her hair\n[02:43.87] Yessir, her right there, she livin' the nightmare\n[02:45.61] In the couch room bounce a tip with curtains closed\n[02:49.23] Supposed to dance but off the deck some piles a sniff she workin' poles\n[02:51.92] Slice of onion make her cry\n[02:53.73] Cause of lack of funding standards are lowered like dungeons only to survive\n[02:57.41] For many life ain't half over at the end of its rope\n[03:00.14] Like they just smoked bad dope blended with soap paint\n[03:02.88] But were getting paid however we can\n[03:04.60] It's hard in Lexington, and I'm feelin' less than a man\n[03:07.38] Leaders misleadin' and weavin' rivals for fraud\n[03:10.08] Plague like weed caught a swing from Moses' rod\n[03:13.75] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Being Human's Hard (ft. Versatile) - Kynfolk\n artist: CunninLynguists\n album: Sloppy Seconds Vol. 2\n duration_ms: 223791\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: He try leading with his heart\n start_ms: 5380\n end_ms: 19850\n- text: Without bleeding from his heart\n start_ms: 19850\n end_ms: 21690\n- text: Bacardi dark and blunts sparked meetings in the park\n start_ms: 21690\n end_ms: 23440\n- text: Jacques Cousteau, below city level, fleein' from sharks\n start_ms: 23440\n end_ms: 27190\n- text: Pushers playin' while police man up with snitchers and narcs\n start_ms: 27190\n end_ms: 29870\n- text: Could cheddar be so vital a piece of my soul's survival\n start_ms: 29870\n end_ms: 32580\n- text: To the point to even go look for peace you load your rifle?\n start_ms: 32580\n end_ms: 35280\n- text: Past mistakes, court dates, brand you for life\n start_ms: 35280\n end_ms: 37900\n- text: Force hand makes the crackheads scramble for pipes\n start_ms: 37900\n end_ms: 39730\n- text: Fast grands, take your high stakes, gamble for ice\n start_ms: 39730\n end_ms: 42470\n- text: Look at the surface of the game, dang, that'll be nice\n start_ms: 42470\n end_ms: 46060\n- text: Figured the purpose of the game, man, that'll be life\n start_ms: 46060\n end_ms: 48760\n- text: Or get two circles on the chain, wrists gotta be tight\n start_ms: 48760\n end_ms: 51410\n- text: Either your head on the cruiser or the lead from the Luger\n start_ms: 51410\n end_ms: 54240\n- text: Mighta made ya some dough but ain't no bread in your future\n start_ms: 54240\n end_ms: 56920\n- text: Kinda movin' too slow, ya better spread 'fore they shoot ya\n start_ms: 56920\n end_ms: 59670\n- text: Hospital bed, can't use your legs like ya use to\n start_ms: 59670\n end_ms: 62310\n- text: Being human's hard\n start_ms: 62310\n end_ms: 67750\n- text: Being human's hard on the boulevard\n start_ms: 67750\n end_ms: 74990\n- text: Being human's hard\n start_ms: 74990\n end_ms: 78530\n- text: Being human's hard on the boulevard\n start_ms: 78530\n end_ms: 84090\n- text: Come a little closer into the life of a smoker\n start_ms: 84090\n end_ms: 86750\n- text: Where paranoia is the price to be sober, over my shoulder\n start_ms: 86750\n end_ms: 89460\n- text: Seems to be the land of the lost and the home of the slaves\n start_ms: 89460\n end_ms: 92110\n- text: Where soldiers carry toasters in holsters, supposed to be brave\n start_ms: 92110\n end_ms: 94880\n- text: But underneath the surface they purpose is lost in they ways\n start_ms: 94880\n end_ms: 97570\n- text: They walk in a daze, the only time they spark when they blaze\n start_ms: 97570\n end_ms: 100290\n- text: They off in a maze, the high life you've lost to get paid\n start_ms: 100290\n end_ms: 102910\n- text: The low life is when you're tossed in that cage, or in that grave\n start_ms: 102910\n end_ms: 105600\n- text: So I stay with an open mind, my mind's open\n start_ms: 105600\n end_ms: 108420\n- text: When I'm totin' 9s on the grind hopin' over time\n start_ms: 108420\n end_ms: 111290\n- text: I can climb to the top of the cliff\n start_ms: 111290\n end_ms: 113060\n- text: Cause right now I'm standin' at the edge stiff, I'm hopin' that I don't slip\n start_ms: 113060\n end_ms: 116620\n- text: One slight, false move and my life in this tight grip\n start_ms: 116620\n end_ms: 120330\n- text: The lose all strength in the time and be priceless\n start_ms: 120330\n end_ms: 123050\n- text: Though my right fist is stuck in the air to show power\n start_ms: 123050\n end_ms: 124800\n- text: My left hand's holdin' them grams of snow powder\n start_ms: 124800\n end_ms: 127510\n- text: I see dice games, I'm side bettin', makin' a killin', man\n start_ms: 127510\n end_ms: 152840\n- text: Homies fuckin' niggas swiping rings and chains\n start_ms: 152840\n end_ms: 154610\n- text: Money lost now, a body picked up off ground\n start_ms: 154610\n end_ms: 157440\n- text: That child saw it, deafened by pain it was an assault sound\n start_ms: 157440\n end_ms: 160130\n- text: Bangs they all round, bangs on her hair\n start_ms: 160130\n end_ms: 163870\n- text: Yessir, her right there, she livin' the nightmare\n start_ms: 163870\n end_ms: 165610\n- text: In the couch room bounce a tip with curtains closed\n start_ms: 165610\n end_ms: 169230\n- text: Supposed to dance but off the deck some piles a sniff she workin' poles\n start_ms: 169230\n end_ms: 171920\n- text: Slice of onion make her cry\n start_ms: 171920\n end_ms: 173730\n- text: Cause of lack of funding standards are lowered like dungeons only to survive\n start_ms: 173730\n end_ms: 177410\n- text: For many life ain't half over at the end of its rope\n start_ms: 177410\n end_ms: 180140\n- text: Like they just smoked bad dope blended with soap paint\n start_ms: 180140\n end_ms: 182880\n- text: But were getting paid however we can\n start_ms: 182880\n end_ms: 184600\n- text: It's hard in Lexington, and I'm feelin' less than a man\n start_ms: 184600\n end_ms: 187380\n- text: Leaders misleadin' and weavin' rivals for fraud\n start_ms: 187380\n end_ms: 190080\n- text: Plague like weed caught a swing from Moses' rod\n start_ms: 190080\n end_ms: 193750\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 193750\nplain: |-\n He try leading with his heart\n Without bleeding from his heart\n Bacardi dark and blunts sparked meetings in the park\n Jacques Cousteau, below city level, fleein' from sharks\n Pushers playin' while police man up with snitchers and narcs\n Could cheddar be so vital a piece of my soul's survival\n To the point to even go look for peace you load your rifle?\n Past mistakes, court dates, brand you for life\n Force hand makes the crackheads scramble for pipes\n Fast grands, take your high stakes, gamble for ice\n Look at the surface of the game, dang, that'll be nice\n Figured the purpose of the game, man, that'll be life\n Or get two circles on the chain, wrists gotta be tight\n Either your head on the cruiser or the lead from the Luger\n Mighta made ya some dough but ain't no bread in your future\n Kinda movin' too slow, ya better spread 'fore they shoot ya\n Hospital bed, can't use your legs like ya use to\n\n Being human's hard\n Being human's hard on the boulevard\n Being human's hard\n Being human's hard on the boulevard\n\n Come a little closer into the life of a smoker\n Where paranoia is the price to be sober, over my shoulder\n Seems to be the land of the lost and the home of the slaves\n Where soldiers carry toasters in holsters, supposed to be brave\n But underneath the surface they purpose is lost in they ways\n They walk in a daze, the only time they spark when they blaze\n They off in a maze, the high life you've lost to get paid\n The low life is when you're tossed in that cage, or in that grave\n So I stay with an open mind, my mind's open\n When I'm totin' 9s on the grind hopin' over time\n I can climb to the top of the cliff\n Cause right now I'm standin' at the edge stiff, I'm hopin' that I don't slip\n One slight, false move and my life in this tight grip\n The lose all strength in the time and be priceless\n Though my right fist is stuck in the air to show power\n My left hand's holdin' them grams of snow powder\n\n I see dice games, I'm side bettin', makin' a killin', man\n Homies fuckin' niggas swiping rings and chains\n Money lost now, a body picked up off ground\n That child saw it, deafened by pain it was an assault sound\n Bangs they all round, bangs on her hair\n Yessir, her right there, she livin' the nightmare\n In the couch room bounce a tip with curtains closed\n Supposed to dance but off the deck some piles a sniff she workin' poles\n Slice of onion make her cry\n Cause of lack of funding standards are lowered like dungeons only to survive\n For many life ain't half over at the end of its rope\n Like they just smoked bad dope blended with soap paint\n But were getting paid however we can\n It's hard in Lexington, and I'm feelin' less than a man\n Leaders misleadin' and weavin' rivals for fraud\n Plague like weed caught a swing from Moses' rod\n"},{"id":25247734,"name":"Being Human's Hard - Kynfolk F Versatile (Produced By Kno)","trackName":"Being Human's Hard - Kynfolk F Versatile (Produced By Kno)","artistName":"Cunninlynguists","albumName":"Sloppy Seconds Vol 2","duration":223.720687,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"He try leading with his heart\nWithout bleeding from his heart\nBacardi dark and blunts sparked meetings in the park\nJacques Cousteau, below city level, fleein' from sharks\nPushers playin' while police man up with snitchers and narcs\nCould cheddar be so vital a piece of my soul's survival\nTo the point to even go look for peace you load your rifle?\nPast mistakes, court dates, brand you for life\nForce hand makes the crackheads scramble for pipes\nFast grands, take your high stakes, gamble for ice\nLook at the surface of the game, dang, that'll be nice\nFigured the purpose of the game, man, that'll be life\nOr get two circles on the chain, wrists gotta be tight\nEither your head on the cruiser or the lead from the Luger\nMighta made ya some dough but ain't no bread in your future\nKinda movin' too slow, ya better spread 'fore they shoot ya\nHospital bed, can't use your legs like ya use to\n\nBeing human's hard\nBeing human's hard on the boulevard\nBeing human's hard\nBeing human's hard on the boulevard\n\nCome a little closer into the life of a smoker\nWhere paranoia is the price to be sober, over my shoulder\nSeems to be the land of the lost and the home of the slaves\nWhere soldiers carry toasters in holsters, supposed to be brave\nBut underneath the surface they purpose is lost in they ways\nThey walk in a daze, the only time they spark when they blaze\nThey off in a maze, the high life you've lost to get paid\nThe low life is when you're tossed in that cage, or in that grave\nSo I stay with an open mind, my mind's open\nWhen I'm totin' 9s on the grind hopin' over time\nI can climb to the top of the cliff\nCause right now I'm standin' at the edge stiff, I'm hopin' that I don't slip\nOne slight, false move and my life in this tight grip\nThe lose all strength in the time and be priceless\nThough my right fist is stuck in the air to show power\nMy left hand's holdin' them grams of snow powder\n\nI see dice games, I'm side bettin', makin' a killin', man\nHomies fuckin' niggas swiping rings and chains\nMoney lost now, a body picked up off ground\nThat child saw it, deafened by pain it was an assault sound\nBangs they all round, bangs on her hair\nYessir, her right there, she livin' the nightmare\nIn the couch room bounce a tip with curtains closed\nSupposed to dance but off the deck some piles a sniff she workin' poles\nSlice of onion make her cry\nCause of lack of funding standards are lowered like dungeons only to survive\nFor many life ain't half over at the end of its rope\nLike they just smoked bad dope blended with soap paint\nBut were getting paid however we can\nIt's hard in Lexington, and I'm feelin' less than a man\nLeaders misleadin' and weavin' rivals for fraud\nPlague like weed caught a swing from Moses' rod","syncedLyrics":"[00:05.38] He try leading with his heart\n[00:19.85] Without bleeding from his heart\n[00:21.69] Bacardi dark and blunts sparked meetings in the park\n[00:23.44] Jacques Cousteau, below city level, fleein' from sharks\n[00:27.19] Pushers playin' while police man up with snitchers and narcs\n[00:29.87] Could cheddar be so vital a piece of my soul's survival\n[00:32.58] To the point to even go look for peace you load your rifle?\n[00:35.28] Past mistakes, court dates, brand you for life\n[00:37.90] Force hand makes the crackheads scramble for pipes\n[00:39.73] Fast grands, take your high stakes, gamble for ice\n[00:42.47] Look at the surface of the game, dang, that'll be nice\n[00:46.06] Figured the purpose of the game, man, that'll be life\n[00:48.76] Or get two circles on the chain, wrists gotta be tight\n[00:51.41] Either your head on the cruiser or the lead from the Luger\n[00:54.24] Mighta made ya some dough but ain't no bread in your future\n[00:56.92] Kinda movin' too slow, ya better spread 'fore they shoot ya\n[00:59.67] Hospital bed, can't use your legs like ya use to\n[01:02.31] Being human's hard\n[01:07.75] Being human's hard on the boulevard\n[01:14.99] Being human's hard\n[01:18.53] Being human's hard on the boulevard\n[01:24.09] Come a little closer into the life of a smoker\n[01:26.75] Where paranoia is the price to be sober, over my shoulder\n[01:29.46] Seems to be the land of the lost and the home of the slaves\n[01:32.11] Where soldiers carry toasters in holsters, supposed to be brave\n[01:34.88] But underneath the surface they purpose is lost in they ways\n[01:37.57] They walk in a daze, the only time they spark when they blaze\n[01:40.29] They off in a maze, the high life you've lost to get paid\n[01:42.91] The low life is when you're tossed in that cage, or in that grave\n[01:45.60] So I stay with an open mind, my mind's open\n[01:48.42] When I'm totin' 9s on the grind hopin' over time\n[01:51.29] I can climb to the top of the cliff\n[01:53.06] Cause right now I'm standin' at the edge stiff, I'm hopin' that I don't slip\n[01:56.62] One slight, false move and my life in this tight grip\n[02:00.33] The lose all strength in the time and be priceless\n[02:03.05] Though my right fist is stuck in the air to show power\n[02:04.80] My left hand's holdin' them grams of snow powder\n[02:07.51] I see dice games, I'm side bettin', makin' a killin', man\n[02:32.84] Homies fuckin' niggas swiping rings and chains\n[02:34.61] Money lost now, a body picked up off ground\n[02:37.44] That child saw it, deafened by pain it was an assault sound\n[02:40.13] Bangs they all round, bangs on her hair\n[02:43.87] Yessir, her right there, she livin' the nightmare\n[02:45.61] In the couch room bounce a tip with curtains closed\n[02:49.23] Supposed to dance but off the deck some piles a sniff she workin' poles\n[02:51.92] Slice of onion make her cry\n[02:53.73] Cause of lack of funding standards are lowered like dungeons only to survive\n[02:57.41] For many life ain't half over at the end of its rope\n[03:00.14] Like they just smoked bad dope blended with soap paint\n[03:02.88] But were getting paid however we can\n[03:04.60] It's hard in Lexington, and I'm feelin' less than a man\n[03:07.38] Leaders misleadin' and weavin' rivals for fraud\n[03:10.08] Plague like weed caught a swing from Moses' rod\n[03:13.75] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Being Human's Hard - Kynfolk F Versatile (Produced By Kno)\n artist: Cunninlynguists\n album: Sloppy Seconds Vol 2\n duration_ms: 223721\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: He try leading with his heart\n start_ms: 5380\n end_ms: 19850\n- text: Without bleeding from his heart\n start_ms: 19850\n end_ms: 21690\n- text: Bacardi dark and blunts sparked meetings in the park\n start_ms: 21690\n end_ms: 23440\n- text: Jacques Cousteau, below city level, fleein' from sharks\n start_ms: 23440\n end_ms: 27190\n- text: Pushers playin' while police man up with snitchers and narcs\n start_ms: 27190\n end_ms: 29870\n- text: Could cheddar be so vital a piece of my soul's survival\n start_ms: 29870\n end_ms: 32580\n- text: To the point to even go look for peace you load your rifle?\n start_ms: 32580\n end_ms: 35280\n- text: Past mistakes, court dates, brand you for life\n start_ms: 35280\n end_ms: 37900\n- text: Force hand makes the crackheads scramble for pipes\n start_ms: 37900\n end_ms: 39730\n- text: Fast grands, take your high stakes, gamble for ice\n start_ms: 39730\n end_ms: 42470\n- text: Look at the surface of the game, dang, that'll be nice\n start_ms: 42470\n end_ms: 46060\n- text: Figured the purpose of the game, man, that'll be life\n start_ms: 46060\n end_ms: 48760\n- text: Or get two circles on the chain, wrists gotta be tight\n start_ms: 48760\n end_ms: 51410\n- text: Either your head on the cruiser or the lead from the Luger\n start_ms: 51410\n end_ms: 54240\n- text: Mighta made ya some dough but ain't no bread in your future\n start_ms: 54240\n end_ms: 56920\n- text: Kinda movin' too slow, ya better spread 'fore they shoot ya\n start_ms: 56920\n end_ms: 59670\n- text: Hospital bed, can't use your legs like ya use to\n start_ms: 59670\n end_ms: 62310\n- text: Being human's hard\n start_ms: 62310\n end_ms: 67750\n- text: Being human's hard on the boulevard\n start_ms: 67750\n end_ms: 74990\n- text: Being human's hard\n start_ms: 74990\n end_ms: 78530\n- text: Being human's hard on the boulevard\n start_ms: 78530\n end_ms: 84090\n- text: Come a little closer into the life of a smoker\n start_ms: 84090\n end_ms: 86750\n- text: Where paranoia is the price to be sober, over my shoulder\n start_ms: 86750\n end_ms: 89460\n- text: Seems to be the land of the lost and the home of the slaves\n start_ms: 89460\n end_ms: 92110\n- text: Where soldiers carry toasters in holsters, supposed to be brave\n start_ms: 92110\n end_ms: 94880\n- text: But underneath the surface they purpose is lost in they ways\n start_ms: 94880\n end_ms: 97570\n- text: They walk in a daze, the only time they spark when they blaze\n start_ms: 97570\n end_ms: 100290\n- text: They off in a maze, the high life you've lost to get paid\n start_ms: 100290\n end_ms: 102910\n- text: The low life is when you're tossed in that cage, or in that grave\n start_ms: 102910\n end_ms: 105600\n- text: So I stay with an open mind, my mind's open\n start_ms: 105600\n end_ms: 108420\n- text: When I'm totin' 9s on the grind hopin' over time\n start_ms: 108420\n end_ms: 111290\n- text: I can climb to the top of the cliff\n start_ms: 111290\n end_ms: 113060\n- text: Cause right now I'm standin' at the edge stiff, I'm hopin' that I don't slip\n start_ms: 113060\n end_ms: 116620\n- text: One slight, false move and my life in this tight grip\n start_ms: 116620\n end_ms: 120330\n- text: The lose all strength in the time and be priceless\n start_ms: 120330\n end_ms: 123050\n- text: Though my right fist is stuck in the air to show power\n start_ms: 123050\n end_ms: 124800\n- text: My left hand's holdin' them grams of snow powder\n start_ms: 124800\n end_ms: 127510\n- text: I see dice games, I'm side bettin', makin' a killin', man\n start_ms: 127510\n end_ms: 152840\n- text: Homies fuckin' niggas swiping rings and chains\n start_ms: 152840\n end_ms: 154610\n- text: Money lost now, a body picked up off ground\n start_ms: 154610\n end_ms: 157440\n- text: That child saw it, deafened by pain it was an assault sound\n start_ms: 157440\n end_ms: 160130\n- text: Bangs they all round, bangs on her hair\n start_ms: 160130\n end_ms: 163870\n- text: Yessir, her right there, she livin' the nightmare\n start_ms: 163870\n end_ms: 165610\n- text: In the couch room bounce a tip with curtains closed\n start_ms: 165610\n end_ms: 169230\n- text: Supposed to dance but off the deck some piles a sniff she workin' poles\n start_ms: 169230\n end_ms: 171920\n- text: Slice of onion make her cry\n start_ms: 171920\n end_ms: 173730\n- text: Cause of lack of funding standards are lowered like dungeons only to survive\n start_ms: 173730\n end_ms: 177410\n- text: For many life ain't half over at the end of its rope\n start_ms: 177410\n end_ms: 180140\n- text: Like they just smoked bad dope blended with soap paint\n start_ms: 180140\n end_ms: 182880\n- text: But were getting paid however we can\n start_ms: 182880\n end_ms: 184600\n- text: It's hard in Lexington, and I'm feelin' less than a man\n start_ms: 184600\n end_ms: 187380\n- text: Leaders misleadin' and weavin' rivals for fraud\n start_ms: 187380\n end_ms: 190080\n- text: Plague like weed caught a swing from Moses' rod\n start_ms: 190080\n end_ms: 193750\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 193750\nplain: |-\n He try leading with his heart\n Without bleeding from his heart\n Bacardi dark and blunts sparked meetings in the park\n Jacques Cousteau, below city level, fleein' from sharks\n Pushers playin' while police man up with snitchers and narcs\n Could cheddar be so vital a piece of my soul's survival\n To the point to even go look for peace you load your rifle?\n Past mistakes, court dates, brand you for life\n Force hand makes the crackheads scramble for pipes\n Fast grands, take your high stakes, gamble for ice\n Look at the surface of the game, dang, that'll be nice\n Figured the purpose of the game, man, that'll be life\n Or get two circles on the chain, wrists gotta be tight\n Either your head on the cruiser or the lead from the Luger\n Mighta made ya some dough but ain't no bread in your future\n Kinda movin' too slow, ya better spread 'fore they shoot ya\n Hospital bed, can't use your legs like ya use to\n\n Being human's hard\n Being human's hard on the boulevard\n Being human's hard\n Being human's hard on the boulevard\n\n Come a little closer into the life of a smoker\n Where paranoia is the price to be sober, over my shoulder\n Seems to be the land of the lost and the home of the slaves\n Where soldiers carry toasters in holsters, supposed to be brave\n But underneath the surface they purpose is lost in they ways\n They walk in a daze, the only time they spark when they blaze\n They off in a maze, the high life you've lost to get paid\n The low life is when you're tossed in that cage, or in that grave\n So I stay with an open mind, my mind's open\n When I'm totin' 9s on the grind hopin' over time\n I can climb to the top of the cliff\n Cause right now I'm standin' at the edge stiff, I'm hopin' that I don't slip\n One slight, false move and my life in this tight grip\n The lose all strength in the time and be priceless\n Though my right fist is stuck in the air to show power\n My left hand's holdin' them grams of snow powder\n\n I see dice games, I'm side bettin', makin' a killin', man\n Homies fuckin' niggas swiping rings and chains\n Money lost now, a body picked up off ground\n That child saw it, deafened by pain it was an assault sound\n Bangs they all round, bangs on her hair\n Yessir, her right there, she livin' the nightmare\n In the couch room bounce a tip with curtains closed\n Supposed to dance but off the deck some piles a sniff she workin' poles\n Slice of onion make her cry\n Cause of lack of funding standards are lowered like dungeons only to survive\n For many life ain't half over at the end of its rope\n Like they just smoked bad dope blended with soap paint\n But were getting paid however we can\n It's hard in Lexington, and I'm feelin' less than a man\n Leaders misleadin' and weavin' rivals for fraud\n Plague like weed caught a swing from Moses' rod\n"}]