[Intro: Amir Royale & Lauryn Hill]
One day, you're gonna understand...
A-Rod—Jermaine, I'm home
Dear God, I pray I hold it together
A-Rod—Lauryn, I'm home
Dear God, my gosh, my gosh

[Verse]
Miseducated, sent to college without preparation
But got an invitation to this fucked up game
I honestly wish I had more time to live my younger days
And have more memories and a couple more ovations
Cause otherwise, I’m represented with no reputation
N***as stay hating, while I'm well waited
But stay so hungry, can’t nothing sate it
So busy, I just cannot hold a conversation
Acting up in class, meanwhile—
This a music business presentation (Sorry Lauren)
It just seems that I cannot shake it
The fact that I got something these kids ain't get
The power to create new personas
And don 'em like Stracci or Corleone would
Your shit is sweet, but it ain't nothing like a donut; universal
I run circles 'round these n***as making pop songs
Thinking that I ain't got none
Meanwhile I'm the one that can top 'em
Can't nobody stop him
Cause this surge is another earth, it's second nature
I hate you, cause your illogical, jiggy algorithms
Brought you way more attention than you deserve
If you really was the one, you'd be putting the music first
And trying to touch the people instead of rappin' 'bout drugs
Over wack cracked beats with flows that ain't even lethal
[Hook]
So can I holla at ya? Can I holla at ya?
Said, can I holla at ya? Can I holla at ya?
And though I know it's been a while
There ain't no better time than now
So stop fucking around—can I holla at ya?
Just lemme holla at ya