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Absolutly Correct (Only notes will be sent) Mostly Correct, yet... The lyrics are wrong Very Wrong Not the lyrics to BEEN THROUGH THE STORM (FEAT. STEVIE WONDER)
Severity is 3
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Lyric Body	[Chorus: Stevie Wonder] Been through the storm, through the cold and rain Everything's still the same Can't control how I feel Sometimes it's hard to keep it real You see the luxuries in life, with the fortune and fame Like them Cadillacs with sunroofs mayne So many ways to make a dollar Huh, sometimes I think about my father You see my poppa was broke, and my momma was young Tryin to blend in with them city folk Every day landlord knockin down my do' Wonderin where my next blessing is comin from [Busta Rhymes] My momma and poppa, moved to the U.S. as Jamaicans Struggled to get visas and green cards through immigration Though my pop was po', stayed away from crime and malice Hard living gave him hard hands and callous As a young'n, peep how much they loved each other's space His hard hands rubbin against the pretty skin of my mother's face Dig for treasure 'til his hands looked like hands of a junkie So coarse, slap a mule and take the life from a donkey On the other hand, mommy was the type to work two jobs Never enough money, that's why I got your whole crew robbed Got older, developed ways of grippin the steel Barely home for me to see her, or get a good cooked meal Seek refuge in the alleged land of the free, lookin Blendin in with city folk, down in Flatbush Brooklyn Feel a little of my pain, follow and sing to it Homey I seen it all, if you ain't knowin I been through it In other words I [Chorus] [Busta Rhymes] Got a little older, late teens, me and my crew would huddle On the corner late nights, plottin to escape struggle Nights got cold and still would hustle in the same place In front of Pancho Delis, now the freeze up on a nigga face 1987 Reaganomics ever curious to visit other cities, out of town kick was serious Guayanese jeans bounce, put whatever slinger on Whatever slinger came back, quickly brought me right along Nigga ran away from home Doin different wild shit, just to put a pair of Filas on, 'Didas on Wreck is all for the good, gettin into shit Like we innocent, actin older than should Walk around broke in the hood, watchin all the rich niggaz These younger thugs who try to choke and try to get niggaz Thinkin 'bout my mom and pop, while I'm monopolizin To hell with just gettin by and economizin It's kinda hard bein humble in the belly of struggle Doin things that probably get you in trouble That's why we stay up on the block, gettin money while we keepin it safe In front of churchgoers keepin the faith Mom and pop be worryin for they son Despite they struggle and their honest livin look and see just what I become A scavenger, in brute pursuit to be happy, another young'n that's wildin Across the line until somebody tryin to cap me - ohhhh shit {gunfire} [Outro: Stevie Wonder - singer slower with more ad libs] I been through the storm Through the cold and rain Everything's still the same Can't control how I feel Sometimes it's hard to keep it real Woooooooooooooo-whoahhhhhhhhhhhhh Yeahhhhhhhhhhh-ohhhhhhhhhhhhahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
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