[Intro]

Yeah, umm

[Chorus]

No matter what you say, man

Haha, no matter what they say

No matter what you say, man

To do this shit ain't easy

Tryna find a reason why the rap game need me

No matter what you say, man

[Verse 1]

Alright, yo

He just wanted the money, he just strived for the fame

He wanted all the kids and all the girls to know his name

A broken heart unspoken for introduced him to the game

Not weed or cocaine but the art of recordin' the pain

Scribble down a couple words here and there to cut the chains

After all he built had fallen, he'd rebuild his frame

The honesty in his voice was then given a name

And from that day forward, his outlook would never ever be the same

[Chorus]

Nah, no matter what you say, man

No matter what you say, man

To do this shit, it ain't that easy

Tryna find a reason why the rap game need me

Nah, it ain't that easy

Tryna find a reason why the rap game need me

[Verse 2]

Alright

He tried his best but got lost to musical identity

For the sake of his own thoughts, he turned friends into enemies

Had an act for hatin' on ass 'cause them females pretend-to-be's

Developed a hate for the fakes, the popular plastic mini-me's

Thoughts arugin' in his head

Took all night to write, but not to read

Someone shoulda told him that a heart was all he'd really fuckin' need

So he grabbed it, took paper with emotion, he artfully stabbed it

Always kept it fresh 'cause when he was done writin', he capped it

Tried to be like others, takin' bits and pieces from his favorite rappers

Thinkin' if he wore the shoes, the hats, the hoodies

That somehow it would actually matter

Thinkin' that box logos would make the fame come faster

But at the end of the day, he realized

It was always himself that he was after

He wasn't the Creator, he wasn't another Mathers

He was his own man; to get to the top, he'd climb his own ladder

So here I am, lookin' for that last step

Judgin' by the height left, there'll be a while before I make it yet

Ain't done in this game 'til it's covered in these fingerprints

'Til then, the mic's on, notes are opened, and yes, the black's lit

Ain't makin' as many songs 'cause now I'm makin' sure

That everything I write is perfect

Ain't writin' a line if the syllables ain't worth it