[Verse 1]
I'd rather face the sky in the Caymans
Than face indictments of heavy when taking lightly ain't the way I take my rhyming
Maybe it's fate that drives me
Greatness I seek may never be achieved til the day that I cease
I think of my peeps either in the grave or the pen
Or on the block pushing that rock like Payton to Kemp
I gave you a glimpse of the way we exist my book of life
So full of anguish pages I skip I write with a radiant wrist
The nights is the way that I spit so much crack I gave you a brick
And expected you'd question the weight of my shit
It's so real you smell the stench of elevators with piss in
Feel the palm sweat from pumping all day on the bench
I see fake niggas embrace men they say the resent
They hear the door hit the floor I'm straight off the hinges
Food for thought a lot of niggas ate off my strength
Now they thirst my deep dishes (deep dishes), keep wishes
Sleep isn't a trait of street niggas live off strength
Yet a strong case could break a weak nigga
See it's different when facing adversity my verses
And deep lyrics became realer from gained wisdom
[Hook - DJ Premier (scratching)]
I'm here to play the hand that I'm dealt
I suggest you do the same, these words are heart felt
I lay it our clear, ya niggas better use it
All eyes on us and we keeping it live x2
[Verse 2]
Born and raised where real niggas are legendary
Some are present, others in state pens and cemeteries
Niggas be struggling so hustling is necessary
Unless you got a mean jump shot
I seen niggas nice at ball pump rock, and not get drafted, in the NBA
They laying up in a casket
Every rhyme I say is classic
Like episodes of Sanford and Son
At my man crib where we had the stash hid
Right next to the gat with the red light
Feds might be listening, hoping that my shit ain't air tight, yeah, right
I'mma shine, I'm the street personified
Niggas ain't built to see the ill grief and homicides
Real recognize real fake can't relate to how I feel
I could say names but I'mma chill, yo, we dreamed to beat poverty
When Benny Blanco pop Carlito, I shot the screen
I've got to be one of the realest niggas
I talk it 'cause I lived it from the kitchen
With the raw to the courtroom sentence to the dorm holding
The horn rocking FILA slippers thoughts will never end unless it's what I intended