[Verse]
Live from Jamaica, Queens, the way south side
South side, this side takes the waste out
Our higher vibration stay shoutin' for Papa
Why hate the player? My mind's on the future
You would say in the cloud
I probably wouldn't still be alive living the now
You believe truth can survive under denial
Thousands of n***as way more braver than I could ever be
Died younger than I will
Body bag ain't quite wiser than an owl
Them nights at my momma house could never make a sound
When life handed lemon, madе the lemonade sour
Thеm nights way, way ago, way ago, make it count
I broke my halo but I pray he don't take it down
Them naysayers said to my face I won't make it out
I made a little bit of paper
But there ain't no bank account that could pay for the bake that's owed to me
Whole block of fake n***as hatin' but say they proud
They could say for they self, make it safe for yourself
Twice a year, it takes all the patience within myself
Not to make a mess with the ****, but I'd hate to make this about that
It ain't a lame in the world could get to me
It takes way more than words to tempt me
Gently, the ancestors told me "Protect the memory for the turn of century"
I had to learn the end is written like a journal entry
I been with women who insist a n***a learn his history
And accurately predicted that n***as'll turn against me
Half the murders in this city due to hurt and envy
My little cousin suggested I keep a burner with me