Song Lyrics

It took years of pain, struggle, and strife from not knowing
To up-step stage, sound check, and wreck shows
With the nice confidence, critically precise
Reassuring my brother, rolling the dice, making life ice
Locked on new blocks, promoters, and cities
Alone on the road, temp well-below fifty
What a pity, it comes down to mics and a pillow
Couple handshakes, hash browns and a hello
From a fan to make it worthwhile with the plan
To cover more miles than any man should have
In limited time, with unlimited rhymes to give for b-boys
Unified in towns where they live, worldwide
And at the same time, it's still cold
Thousand miles away with your life on hold
At home in other times zones, doing our best
Travelling train-to-plane, stretching out, getting rest
In uncomfortable positions, a show rocking missions
Looking for an audience or crowd that'll listen
And it happens, put my worthwhile in my rap
And a paycheck in the form of loud handclapping
Back to the hotel, next night, same thing
Nothing glamorous, we're just doing our thing
And go back to the hotel (same thing)
Nothing glamorous, we're just doing our thing

I come home to shadiness at least eighty percent of the time
'Cause I was out getting mine, tripping, kicking the rhyme
Ol' girl don't understand that's why it's getting better each time
Chilling in the spotlights, Corona and lime
When I point, it's the joint, y'all, I'm having a ball
Travelling without the battling of who's weak and who's raw
Just in the state of mind of partying and ripping rhymes
Smoking out the green room, cracking jokes, drinking wine
But sometimes, I unwind and find myself sober
And called home in about a week, technically it's overseas
Where I'mma find myself at the bottom of this
Chain smoking anything, hollering at Chris
He say he going through it too, asking what we gotta do
I said we got an interview at a half past two
With all feelings aside, a soundcheck at five o'clock
We up, set to rock another night outta thirty of them
Keep the greens coming (two kinds!), and I can recline
Over to the next state line and dealing with time
An all-star rap show, proving the thought
Keeping it moving, country-to-country-to-state, we heavy grooving
But you see, I got obligations at home
My mind telling me someone's having relations at home
All I can do is stay high and focus on the P
But it's that angel and that devil, and he's sitting, fucking with me
I'm L.A.-International-bound, pack up the sound, head West
I got smooth intentions on breaking necks
But first, I'm heading to the bank with a big grin
It's a couple that know I'm coming back to do it again (ah, ha ha!)
And I'm talking 'bout you, you, you... oh, but not you

Kiss your mama goodbye, we're hitting the road
No tour bus, carrying our own load
So throw it in a bag, pack it up, and let's go
Travel 'round the globe, trying to rock a fresh show
Kiss your mama goodbye, we're hitting the road
No tour bus, carrying our own load
So throw it in a bag, pack it up, and let's go
Travel 'round the globe, trying to rock a fresh show

Chris Portugal, Mike Turner

The duration of Roadbeaters is 4:10 minutes and seconds.