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lyrics

Y. Bully:
There used to be a friend I know,
Somewhere in the hood
My homie used to hold his own,
Somewhere in the hood
I feel my homie lost his soul,
To the glitter and the gold —
Had the pots on the stove like,
Cooking that shit at home,
Father already gone,
Killing who brought you here I guess your conscience ain't at wrong —
I guess you’re shaking hands with all these demons,
I mean you’re eating, right? You’re sleeping, right?
‘Cause I feel like I’m the only one who’s not sleeping at night

Gruw Raw:
Somewhere in the hood lives a friend I know,
She look good, but she lives with rats at home,

I never understood how she could last that long,
‘Til she made me see, the people here are way past gone,

The table top is always white — even though it's painted black,
In, in, in and out — busy, busy, busy house,
How can a place like that be safe? It can’t,
But what can you do when the shoe that you live in
Has gotten its sole by illegal ambitions — you’re stuck

Which always feels really close to fucked,

They're nothing but a few streets down,
Yet walk inside the crib and it looks and feels as if you've driven a mile,

Desolated interior with reflective personalities,
I can feel the disbelief of this being reality — Shit,

Submissed to the pain of the past to rest a bit,
And woke up in a hell she never invested in,

Boring — Just another story

Y. Bully:
Father, Oh Father,
How you gonna bless them with a son or a daughter,
And let’em raise them in this hell they call home,
Where love isn’t found but it’s sold,
Misleaded in this life, so chances are they gon’ dope,
And we supposed to cope with this shit,
I mean, look at the scene, father a fiend,
Brother providing by selling the keys,
Mother deciding that she gonna leave,
Her daughter be pregnant and only thirteen?

Her daughter be pregnant and only thirteen.

Gruw Raw:
Brother, Oh brother,
Why'd you have to kill the fam again?

Mother, Oh mother,
Why you just sitting there? Stand again

I don't feel the willingness in anyone to make it,
‘Cept for the sister,
Who has a broken back and blisters on her feet,
‘Cause of the weight she carries week to week,
It’s bound to be, or bound to get,
Emotionally ugly
‘Cause everyone is thinking the exact same thing:

"My family doesn't love me"

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Bars and Tone Ottawa, Ontario

You could say that Bars & Tone is a Canadian alternative hip hop group with a folk rock/p-funk twist — but even a statement as vague as that would pigeonhole this diverse trio.

The guys have been honing their craft, recording song after song while doubling as a production team for the artists on the collective. Each has their own sound so for Bars & Tone, versatility and openness is compulsory.
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