Singer: Hamilton
|
Song: Wrote My Way Out
Hamilton - Wrote My Way Out Subtitles (SRT) (04:09-249-0-en) (PARTIAL PREVIEW)
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by RentAnAdviser.com
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I wrote my way out
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When the world turned its back on me
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I was up against the wall
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I had no foundation
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No friends and no family
to catch my fall
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Running on empty, with nothing
left in me but doubt
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I picked up a pen
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And wrote my way out (I
wrote my way out)
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I picked up the pen like Hamilton
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Street analyst, now I write words
that try to channel 'em
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No political power, just lyrical power
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Sittin' on a crate on a corner,
sippin' for hours
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Schemin' on a come up, from
evening'to sun up
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My man awaitin' trial, misdemeanors
we younger
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Courtroom prejudice, insufficient
evidence
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Jailhouse lawyers, these
images still relevant
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Flickerin' lights inside
my project hall
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Sickenin', the mice crawl
all night long
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And '87 Reaganism, many
pages I've written on
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Writin' songs about rights and
wrongs and bails bonds
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Master bedroom, bigger than the
crib that I was raised at
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I'm the architect like I wrote
the code to Waze app
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I'm driven, black Elohim from
the streets of Queens
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The definition of what
It Was Written means
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Know what I mean?
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I wrote my way out
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When the world turned its back on me
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I was up against the wall
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I had no foundation
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No friends and no family
to catch my fall
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Running on empty, there was nothing
left in me but doubt
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I picked up a pen
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And I wrote my way out
(I wrote my way out)
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I really wrote my way up out of 6E
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Develop relationships with fiends,
I know they miss me
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Before the metrocards, it was
tokens, I did the ten speed
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Never had wrote a rhyme in my
life, what was a sixteen?
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At sixteen, arrested in housin',
trips to the mountains
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Came right back, trappin' off
couches, watchin' for mouses
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Only tools we was posed with,
had a spot, smoke lit
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The hate is just confusion, pay attention
how them jokes switch
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Diadora was my favorite,
the Mark Buchanans
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Mama couldn't afford them, I learned
everythin' on the border
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That's a big 8, Clicquot parties with
private dancers with no mixtape
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Bumble Bee Tuna, now
we could get steak
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I persevered, composition,
I kept it close
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Competition near, I'm a Spartan
without the spear
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Three hundred rhymes, it was
written before I wrote it
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Opportunity knockin', might miss
it, that window closin'
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This poetry in motion, I'm a poet
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I wrote my way out
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00:02:19,700 --> 00:02:22,200
When the world turned its back on me
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I was up against the wall
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00:02:24,800 --> 00:02:26,900
I had no foundation
55
00:02:27,000 --> 00:02:29,800
No friends and no family
to catch my fall
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00:02:29,900 --> 00:02:34,600
Running on empty, there was nothing
left in me but doubt
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00:02:34,600 --> 00:02:36,000
I picked up a pen
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00:02:36,100 --> 00:02:37,200
And wrote my way out (I
wrote my way out)
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High speed, dubbin' these rhymes
in my dual cassette deck
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Runnin' out of time like I'm Jonathan
Larson's rent check
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My mind is where the wild things
are, Maurice Sendak
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In withdrawal, I want it all,
please give me that pen back
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Y'all, I caught my first beatin'
from the other kids
when I was caught readin'
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"Oh, you think...........
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