Verse 1:

I was born a poor black kid, Pops doin' a bid

ran down tenement, barely no food in the fridge

My Moms dukes had to raise my on her own

all alone, never had a Father home

I remember clear as day seein' my Mother pray

hopin' I don't be like my Pops and go the other way

but you get tired of your pockets bein' empty

gear skimpy, yo the peer pressure tempt me

at Thirteen had to get my by all means

sellin' to fiends, Pops up State raisin' Hell in the Greens

fuck that, I'm'a hustle, I can't see my Momma struggle

in these Harlem streets drama loves you.



Chorus - Some niggas may have, some niggas may not have, but God bless

the child who holds his own, who holds his own.



Verse 2:

Never was a stray A student

always played hookie, gettin' buddhad

dropped out of High school, the streets raised me

runnin' 'round holdin' heat crazy

My Pops played me, left when I was a Baby

perhaps he hate me, why the Mothafucka make me?

why the Hell is life like this? Trife like this?

sometimes I wanna slice my wrist

found out I had a gift and thought twice 'bout shit

now I'm changin', whole like re-arrangin'

left the crack game'n for the rap game'n

ain't exactly where I wanna be but I ain't complainin'

maintainin', focus on my money and my fame'n

entertainin', risin' to the top since I came in

blazin', and I ain't goin' nowhere yo I'm remainin'



Chorus



Verse 3:

Man, I miss them niggas who got clapped for tryin' to get them figures

everybody leavin'

they say thugs go to Hell when we stop breathin', and I believe 'em

and I ain't tryin' to be there, I got mouths to feed

love my