Broken Home by The Regiment
Broken Home by The Regiment

Broken Home

The Regiment * Track #9 On Live From the Coney Island

Broken Home Lyrics

[Hook]
Why, swisha, you couldn't tell me?
Why, so, could you tell me?
Why(make it so hard to love)
Could you tell me?
I'm Big Relic, grand pimp style five
Kids, four baby mothers
... same chick
Their my oldest and my youngest, a baller
Living at mom's crib, top the Range with a tint
Get the rims next week, 'cause see? I got priorities
In order. I never graduated, never tried to
I only aspire to the keys that the women want me
To ascribe to, tell me, what I need with retirement?
Or pension? The only thing the measure of a man
Is the luxury to can't stop it
My pah rained with all I gotta do is take him shopping
Settle down and commitment, nah, that ain't an option
A little ... but I can still manage
'Cause my gift for gab wth the games is like a PSP
An analist, yep, independent woman, ...

[Hook]
Put the promises in tins and label 'em
Part of the plan, try to understand why the father
Wasn't there to hold the hand
And he ran like a father did
Rolled the stone, tipped down on the kid
Before we got to see him in his crib
Change of style, spit up on his bed
Thinking what's next? Running from the Gleck?
Starring at his son with regret
Feeling he is set back, more problems
Want to beat ..., he got the same mind as his father
Now he learning from a girl how to bag a baller
Payday, scholar searching for a dollar in a man's pocket
Use the body for profit
Can't afford to stop it
No love, save the drama, lift the kid
Bring us along to call her mamma
He confused with all this bad news and
Why she gotta choose his shoes over his tie
Guess little man out of sight
But more in the case I get blind
Make your heart the legga, make your heart the legga

[Hook]

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