[Verse: Royce da 5'9"]
Look up in the sky and thank God that we on
We ain't die against all odds, I'll be around for eons
Adversity never bothered me none
When that 30 unload on rappers, I ain't seen none
But surely I know what's happening like Rog and Rerun
While we respect the codes, me myself I can turn the other cheek
But never bring myself to re-respect the soul
I got that young man flow, that old man glow
Grew up so damn poor, with plenty problems
Lotta drama, beef popping, no Benihana
I wasn't Conan or Rambo, I was just honoring
Going "No mama, no ma'am, no."
No allowance or Christmas gifts, no mistletoes
Up under that little blanket
Nicknaming that handkerchief Mr. Hanky
Wiping off that pistol grip
Rightfully my nickname is With-the-Shits
Like sewers under them broke lampposts
Going "No, your Honor, I sure can't go"
N***as don't believe that I'm from OP
That's cold than a whole damn Moe
Whatchu know 'bout having beef with n***as from your street?
At war with n***as living eight doors up, it all adds up
Knocking the four-four Lambos, whoa
Daddo I'm sorry I had to take your stuff
Speeding off in that Ferrari, a Wraith or truck
License plate say 'Respect all praise or bust'
No regrets, just all faith in God's grace, no trust
All day, my policy is "Where the problem, point him out"
Fuck what y'all say
Talk's cheap, and of course, all fades is on the house
Either you with us or you in the lost way
I came to march, I make broads faint
I don't make art for the faint-of-heart, rock star
Far as hip hop, I just do my part
Over my father head in the hospital bed in rehab
Only time that I stared at a pop chart, trying not to relapse
Let's face off on a track like Emmett Till
I'm taking over like God put me in his will
I'm a friend of Bill's