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Artist: Isaiah Rashad
Album:  The Sun's Tirade
Song:   Brenda
Typed by: Cedmaster3K
 
[Intro]
Mm, mm, yeah, uh-huh
Um, um, yeah, um, this the one
 
[Chorus: Isaiah Rashad]
I got two cigarettes to my last name
I clock in for the check but I don't wanna go...
Yeah, yeah
I got two cigarettes to my last name
I clock in for the check but I don't wanna go...
She said you... you can't save em all
She said you (you, you) you can't save em all, you
She said you (you, you, you) you can't save em all, you
 
[Isaiah Rashad]
Yeah, look, I mix a gallon of the gallon in a gallon of that
And down that in your Nissan, for the memory
For the energy, for the Tennessee
Fam called work, off work just to visit me
I bought an ounce just to fuck with you
He don't take no hand outs, he don't take no hand outs
Remember what my poppa told me
Remember what my poppa told me
Trust inward, trust in ya, my n-word
My friend of, last of the divine livin'
So timid, all on us, dog on us
They would laugh at the small moments, then call on us
Like who had you on your bad day?
Who dropped you at that bitch house?
Like back when we was little, I was just an instrumental
Now I'm Malcolm in a million
We talked about a billion, we talked about our feelings
We kept it more than realest
And look at how the path came, took it for the rap fam
Would ya give ya all to the world, the work, work and left hurt?
Shit and what's worse
She too tired to talk, lately your thumbs hurt
We miss love and sex bridgin' your son's birth
Twenty-one hurts in court by twenty-four, boy
 
[Interlude: Isaiah Rashad]
(Dilla) You can't save 'em all
She said you (you, you, you) you can't save 'em all, ohh
She said you (you-you) you can't save 'em all, um
 
[Isaiah Rashad]
Yeah, look, I write pissed test livin'
Fuck that shit, fuck-fuck call centers
Fuck is this really growin' up, my nigga?
Tax on your motherfuckin' nuts, my nigga
$10.25, what the fuck can a nigga do with $10.25?
Plus your weed habit plus my weed habit and your weed habit
For free givin' we livin' with a weed daddy
Two kids, mix that Boosie with that boom-bap
You rap like you need money like you don't love this
My shit chewed up your jury before you judged this
Pull up, lick on my dick like ain't it gorgeous
For those that can't afford this
It be like I got, I got
I got my own world, I got my own, mind
Day dreamin' for a lunch break for my son's sake
On the run for the fun's, sake
 
[Outro: Isaiah Rashad]
I clock in for the check but I don't wanna go
Yeah, hey, it ain't that hard
I got two cigarettes to my last name
I clock in for the check but I don't wanna go
Yeah (it ain't that hard)
She said yooou, you can't save em all (you, ooh-ooh)
She said