[Intro: Joe Budden]
I hear what nigga's sayin'.
Nigga's gonna' talk to me like...
Like when I come on the plane an' shit, Louie's on.
When I sit out in front of the muh'fuckin' plane with' the daily news with' my legs crossed an' shit.
Wanna' act like I ain't earn my seat, when I'm watchin' muh'fuckas walk to the back an' shit, when it's Coach.
You Pat Riley in that shit, nigga.
[Verse 1: Joe Budden]
I get a ghetto gospel
Only right considerin' the ghetto was my hostile.
Memory is gone, but I'm recallin' all through highschool
Even at my lowest, I was sittin' on my high stool;
That's what bein' high do.
If I couldn't do shit, was always able ta' toke
They tol' me that a nigga die 'fore I was able ta' vote.
'Prolly 'cause me an' my constituents
An' all the shit we did
The MRI couldn't tell you what the issue is.
With' my treason came a cause that I believed in
Is it really wrong if a nigga got a reason?
At times I had ta' take doe
Nigga did whatever for a peso
Bein' from the hood'll be my scapegoat.
A "can it be", 'cause I wasn't born into a canopy
Maybe I was prone ta' fallin' in love with' vanity.
Tell me shit'chu reap is the shit'chu sow
Tell God I'm better than the shit I show
I gotta grow, c'mon.
[Verse 2: Joe Budden]
Now niggas say I floss too much
So... has he changed?
'Cause I don't think that thousand-dollar T cost too much.
All they should say is that he strong
Came out the fire unscathed, ye', I carried on
Lu Vuitton carry on.
[? ] with' my blessing's at a delay
Now ta' lace my chick in [? ] is sorta' cliché.
Plane ain't gonn' never land, less it's in the Netherlands
Twenty on that goldface, Breitling with' the leather band.
Ask for a better hand
I tried collidin' with my problems, ye', I never ran
That'll make me less a man.
I ain't go from not havin' it ta' bein' arrogant
I dreamt, went grabbin' it, jus' bein' passionate.
Some niggas get complaints an' why...
Dude's is newborn birds, jus' afraid ta' fly.
If you're foot's on the breaks, can't ride.
Me, I spread my wings, inhale an' embrace that high!
[Verse 3: Joe Budden]
Give it away, give it away, give it away now [x3]
Look, look, look...
Part of me was gruesome
I ain't changed, I grew some
An' if I did change, I welcomed that shit to come.
Dudes that smoked trees with' me
Dudes that used ta' be with' me
They say I switched up on 'em an' did a three-sixty.
'Cause I don't burn it down
But to me it's commonsense -
You wann' see the otherside, gott' turn aroun'.
Show 'em your game face -
I tell 'em we was on the same track, but wasn't runnin' that same race (nigga).
Weighin' in the same space, but I ain't gonn' change pace
Some' won't let me slowdown, I can't explain fate.
So don't say I won't from broke ta' booshie
I'm far from far-end I jus' know what suits me, muh'fucka.
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