Lupe fiasco - Coulda been

And they say, and they say
And they say, and they say
they say, they say, they say
A lot of stuff, y'know what I mean?
Don't know where I coulda been
If I wasn't doin' this thing right here, shit, yo

If I wasn't rappin' I probably be wrastlin'
Hand to hand grapplin' on the corner of Madison
Or real-estating, trying to sell you a mansion
Or rollerblading doing three-sixty flat spins
Or I'd probably be flipping a burger
Attempting a murder, paralyzed sippin' on Gerber
I could be working at Jewels, chain snatching
Jerking your jewels, homeless working for food
I might be cleaning your pool, teaching your school, preaching to fools
Leeching, smoking weed to be cool
At DMV's holding lines up
Or wind up in line-ups, the time's up
Full of holes in a hole in a fine tux
Out on parole, out of control, holding your dime up
I could be lazy, sitting on your couch
Or I could be crazy, cussing pigeons out

I could be hustlin' bags
Strugglin' bad
If I wasn't up in the lab, shit
I just might be cuttin' your grass
Walkin' your dog, pumpin' your gas
Or nothin' at all

I could be hustlin' bags
Strugglin' bad
If I wasn't up in the lab, shit
I just might be cuttin' your grass
Walkin' your dog, pumpin' your gas
Or nothin' at all

I could be thanking the academy
A friend of the family, your man delivering bail
Or I could be the man that delivers your mail
Or I could be taking the stand drinking on L
This could be my third life, my third strike
Or my third wife, or garbage on my first mic
I could've got off easy, that nigga deserved life
Or the Orkin man searching for termites
I could be sticking up convenience stores
Or twisting up what you fiending for
Or gettin' bucked with the meanest whores
Or been giving up, on top of a building leaning forward, with no wings to soar it
They could've kidnapped my daughters
Been extorted for a couple of Porsches
I might be drunk from the Moe', stumblin' slow
Someone you know, running the show, or shoveling snow, shit


I could be hustlin' bags
Strugglin' bad
If I wasn't up in the lab, shit
I just might be cuttin' your grass
Walkin' your dog, pumpin' your gas
Or nothin' at all

I could be hustlin' bags
Strugglin' bad
If I wasn't up in the lab, shit
I just might be cuttin' your grass
Walkin' your dog, pumpin' your gas
Or nothin' at all

I could be starting guarding, or planting the garden, or security guarding
Or I could be starving and eating out your garbage
And found stardom and starring in sitcoms with Martin
I could've been marching with Martin
Handcuff, nullface, over the face with no comment
I might not even be dark-skinned
I might not even be conscious, comatose from a overdose
A R&B singer blowing the notes
A tailor sewing the coat, a sailor rowing the boat
I could've boxed a little, fought for the title
Lost, and lost my vitals on the way to the hospital
I could've lost my business
Won the lotto and lost my ticket
I could be the last one to cross the finish
Shit, I could be you, I could be him, he could be me, we all got a job

Shit, I just might be cuttin' your grass
Walkin' your dog, pumpin' your gas
Or nothin' at all

I could be hustlin' bags
Strugglin' bad
If I wasn't up in the lab, shit
I just might be cuttin' your grass
Walkin' your dog, pumpin' your gas
Or nothin' at all

I could be hustlin' bags
Strugglin' bad
If I wasn't up in the lab, shit
I just might be cuttin' your grass
Walkin' your dog, pumpin' your gas
Or nothin' at all

Writers: Willie Hutch , Wasalu Jaco

Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC , BMG Rights Management

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