[Verse 1]
God is gracious, God is good
I thank God I made it out the hood
Misguided, misunderstood
Eyes red like Riding Hood
Though around my hood, I probably don’t get the hoorah I should
Cause I don’t sound as Atlanta I sound as hood
I ain’t sound as gutter I wasn't around the crooks
I should write a book called Anti-Social
Circles so small that the shit’s an oval
I don’t know I guess I’m not as soulful
I don’t know I guess I’m not as local
I don’t know I guess I’m way to boastful
All these shows man I way too global
Trusting these hoes man I’m way too hopeful
Speaking my mind man I’m way to vocal
And I’m way too loco
And it’s crazy how n***as can see their self
When they look at you and believe their self
In the ring you the people’s champ
Till they see them rings and they see them belts
Now you done bossed up with your conceited self
Changed up, you need to be yourself
Whatever the fuck that is
And fuck this rap shit
Whatever the fuck that is
It’s more to Atlanta than just being a dumb black n***a and a slum black kid
It’s more to Atlanta than just being a conscious rapper with some content
On a compact disc in a backpack with some nappy ass hair
Just so you can feel more black
Fuck it I’m back
Bobby Ray Bands
[Hook]
See I was just the average Joe
I coulda had an average job
Was hungry and I wanted more
But back then I had it all
Before I drove the fancy cars
Before I smoked with all the stars
Was hungry and I wanted more
Back then I had it all
Back then I had it all
Back then I had it all
My family ain’t gon’ never starve
Back then I had it all

[Verse 2]
Back then they didn’t want me
Now I’m on, they still phony
Fake cool, fake dudes, fake beef and they still cloning
And I’m still lonely
They be taking shots at the big homie
It’s still lonely up top
And I'm the only friend that I got
They say they sleepin’ on me
It’s a bunch of undercovers
Undercover cops, undercover brothers
I ain’t one to judge you, I’m just saying there’s a lot of n***as covered up behind a color and a chopper
True colors, where is Cyndi Lauper?
N***as know that you were not a mobster
Only bricks you've seen is cinderblocks, boy
Writing fiction but you’re not an author
Lookin’ left, stiffin’ up your posture
Wait, I’m getting off of topic
Got a label, we don’t claim a genre, bitch
Cause it ain’t a genre
Whole roster chock-full of Rastas
I been medicating so much lately
Every day I got a different doctor
God damn
[Hook]
See I was just the average Joe
I coulda had an average job
Was hungry and I wanted more
But back then I had it all
Before I drove the fancy cars
Before I smoked with all the stars
Was hungry and I wanted more
Back then I had it all
Back then I had it all
Back then I had it all
My family ain’t gon’ never starve
Back then I had it all