This is a hauntingly beautiful song about introspection, specifically about looking back at a relationship that started bad and ended so poorly, that the narrator wants to go back to the very beginning and tell himself to not even travel down that road. I believe that the relationship started poorly because of the lines:
"Take me back to the night we met:When the night was full of terrors: And your eyes were filled with tears: When you had not touched me yet"
So, the first night was not a great start, but the narrator pursued the relationship and eventually both overcame the rough start to fall in love with each other:
"I had all and then most of you"
Like many relationships that turn sour, it was not a quick decline, but a gradual one where the narrator and their partner fall out of love and gradually grow apart
"Some and now none of you"
Losing someone who was once everything in your world, who you could confide in, tell your secrets to, share all the most intimate parts of your life, to being strangers with that person is probably one of the most painful experiences a person can go through. So Painful, the narrator wants to go back in time and tell himself to not even pursue the relationship.
This was the perfect song for "13 Reasons Why"
Yeah
Welcome to Atlanta, jackin' hammers and vogues
Back to the mackin' and jackin' the clothes, adolescent packin' a four
A knock on the door, who is it? I would happen to know
The one with the flow, who did it?, It was me I suppose
JD in the Rolls and Luda's in the Cut Supreme
Skatin' down Old Nat, gat tucked and leaned
I split your spleen, as a matter of fact I split your team
No blood on the sneaks, gotta keep it so my kicks is clean
I get the cream, cops see me flick my beams
I'm allergic so doc prescribed antihistamines
Oink oink, pig pig, do away with the pork
Only silverware I needs a steak knife and a fork
Did you forget your fuckin manners? I'm Bruce with Banners
Ludacris, Johnny Rockets when I shoot the cannons
The Wooly Mammoth Sabretooth, bitch bite your tongue
I won't stop until I'm rich as them whites'll come
I pulled up in the black Lotus, your plaques are bogus
So I stripped them off the wall
Waitin' for my cue to corner pocket eight balls
You rackin 'em up
I'm big paper like pancakes, stackin' 'em up
In fact I'm slappin 'em up, Cadallac'n the truck
I can't loose with twenty-two, bitch that's what's up
Runnin' in the back to fuck, better tha-than the aquaduct
Chil-li-li-li-lin', fli-pi-pi-pi-pi-n, what?
Yo, yo, yo, yo
Y-y-yo yo, yo-yo-yo
Yo yo-yo-yo, yo-yo, yo
Y-yo, yo, yo-yo-yo-yo-yo yo
Welcome to Atlanta, where the players play
And we ride on them thangs like every day
Big beats, hit streets, see gangsters roamin'
And parties don't stop 'til eight in the mornin'
Welcome to Atlanta, where the players play
And we ride on them thangs like every day
Big beats, hit streets, see gangsters roamin' (uh-huh)
And parties don't stop 'til eight in the mornin' (yo, uh)
Now the party don't start 'til I walk in
And I usually don't leave until the thang ends (uh)
But in the meantime, in between time
You work yo' thing, I'll work mine
I been puttin' it down here since '83
Since the Lakeshore-MD rivalry
When Frozen Paradise was the place to be
If you was ridin', you was bumping to homie Shy-D
I'm the M.B.P., Most Ballin-ist Player (uh-huh)
Make my own rules, bitch call me the mayor
Monday night, Gentlemen's Club
Tuesday night, I'm up in the Velvet Room, gettin' fucked up
Wednesday, I'm at Strokers on lean
Thursday, Jump Clean, then I fall up in Kream
Friday, Shark Bar, Kaya with Frank Ski
Right on the floor is where you can find me
Saturday, is off the heezy for sheezy
You can find me up in One-Tweezy
Sunday, is when I get my sleep in
'Cause on Monday we be at it again, holla
Yo, yo, y-y-yo, yo, yo
Y-y-yo yo, yo-yo-yo
Yo yo-yo-yo, yo-yo, yo
Y-yo, yo, yo-yo-yo-yo-yo yo
Welcome to Atlanta, where the players play
And we ride on them thangs like every day
Big beats, hit streets, see gangsters roamin'
And parties don't stop 'til eight in the mornin'
Welcome to Atlanta, where the players play
And we ride on them thangs like every day
Big beats, hit streets, see gangsters roamin'
And parties don't stop 'til eight in the mornin'
Welcome to Atlanta, where the players play
And we ride on them thangs like every day
Big beats, hit streets, see gangsters roamin'
And parties don't stop 'til eight in the mornin'
Welcome to Atlanta, where the players play
And we ride on them thangs like every day
Big beats, hit streets, see gangsters roamin'
And parties don't stop 'til eight in the mornin'
Welcome to Atlanta, jackin' hammers and vogues
Back to the mackin' and jackin' the clothes, adolescent packin' a four
A knock on the door, who is it? I would happen to know
The one with the flow, who did it?, It was me I suppose
JD in the Rolls and Luda's in the Cut Supreme
Skatin' down Old Nat, gat tucked and leaned
I split your spleen, as a matter of fact I split your team
No blood on the sneaks, gotta keep it so my kicks is clean
I get the cream, cops see me flick my beams
I'm allergic so doc prescribed antihistamines
Oink oink, pig pig, do away with the pork
Only silverware I needs a steak knife and a fork
Did you forget your fuckin manners? I'm Bruce with Banners
Ludacris, Johnny Rockets when I shoot the cannons
The Wooly Mammoth Sabretooth, bitch bite your tongue
I won't stop until I'm rich as them whites'll come
I pulled up in the black Lotus, your plaques are bogus
So I stripped them off the wall
Waitin' for my cue to corner pocket eight balls
You rackin 'em up
I'm big paper like pancakes, stackin' 'em up
In fact I'm slappin 'em up, Cadallac'n the truck
I can't loose with twenty-two, bitch that's what's up
Runnin' in the back to fuck, better tha-than the aquaduct
Chil-li-li-li-lin', fli-pi-pi-pi-pi-n, what?
Yo, yo, yo, yo
Y-y-yo yo, yo-yo-yo
Yo yo-yo-yo, yo-yo, yo
Y-yo, yo, yo-yo-yo-yo-yo yo
Welcome to Atlanta, where the players play
And we ride on them thangs like every day
Big beats, hit streets, see gangsters roamin'
And parties don't stop 'til eight in the mornin'
Welcome to Atlanta, where the players play
And we ride on them thangs like every day
Big beats, hit streets, see gangsters roamin' (uh-huh)
And parties don't stop 'til eight in the mornin' (yo, uh)
Now the party don't start 'til I walk in
And I usually don't leave until the thang ends (uh)
But in the meantime, in between time
You work yo' thing, I'll work mine
I been puttin' it down here since '83
Since the Lakeshore-MD rivalry
When Frozen Paradise was the place to be
If you was ridin', you was bumping to homie Shy-D
I'm the M.B.P., Most Ballin-ist Player (uh-huh)
Make my own rules, bitch call me the mayor
Monday night, Gentlemen's Club
Tuesday night, I'm up in the Velvet Room, gettin' fucked up
Wednesday, I'm at Strokers on lean
Thursday, Jump Clean, then I fall up in Kream
Friday, Shark Bar, Kaya with Frank Ski
Right on the floor is where you can find me
Saturday, is off the heezy for sheezy
You can find me up in One-Tweezy
Sunday, is when I get my sleep in
'Cause on Monday we be at it again, holla
Yo, yo, y-y-yo, yo, yo
Y-y-yo yo, yo-yo-yo
Yo yo-yo-yo, yo-yo, yo
Y-yo, yo, yo-yo-yo-yo-yo yo
Welcome to Atlanta, where the players play
And we ride on them thangs like every day
Big beats, hit streets, see gangsters roamin'
And parties don't stop 'til eight in the mornin'
Welcome to Atlanta, where the players play
And we ride on them thangs like every day
Big beats, hit streets, see gangsters roamin'
And parties don't stop 'til eight in the mornin'
Welcome to Atlanta, where the players play
And we ride on them thangs like every day
Big beats, hit streets, see gangsters roamin'
And parties don't stop 'til eight in the mornin'
Welcome to Atlanta, where the players play
And we ride on them thangs like every day
Big beats, hit streets, see gangsters roamin'
And parties don't stop 'til eight in the mornin'
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To llama37: Excuse Ludacris for having a little bit of creativity, we're all sorry he can't be a bit more like your beloved Britney Spears and write lyrics about the same old bullshit. "I love you, I want to be with you, blah blah." Hip hop/rap is better than it's ever been, and if you don't like it, shut the hell up and stay away from it.
To Alysha M: When I look at your post, I see: "This post is just another stupid post by a dumb hater who has no business being here." I don't see your ass out there makin' songs, so until you do, keep your retarded comments to yourself.
To Sharkyy: I fully agree with you. Many rappers today are showing pride for where they came from. Even though there are about five rappers who are from ATL, Luda and JD are always gonna be the best. :-D
I AGREE THIS SONGS MAY SEEM SHALLOW AND WITHOUT DEPTH AND SUBSTANCE. BUT THEY ARE JUST HAVIN' FUN WITH IT AND TELLIN' THE WORLD WHERE THEY CAME FROM. THERE AIN'T NOTHING WRONG WITH THAT. I ALSO AGREE THAT JD AND LUDA ARE THE BEST TO COME FROM ATL.