[Verse 1: The Notorious B.I.G.]I know how it feels to wake up fucked upPockets broke as hell, another rock to sellPeople look at you like you're the userSelling drugs to all the losers mad Buddha abuserBut they don't know about the stress-filled dayBaby on the way mad bills to payThat's why you drink TanqueraySo you can reminisce and wishYou wasn't living so devilish s-shitI remember I was just like youSmoking blunts with my crewFlipping over SIXTY-TWO'sCause G-E-D wasn't B-I-G, I had to get P-A-I-DThat's why my mom hates meShe was forced to kick me out, no doubtThen I figured out Nick's went for twenty down southPacked up my tools for my raw power moveGlock nineteen for casket and flower movesFour chumps trying to stop my flowAnd what they don't know will show on the autopsyWent to see papi, to cop me a brickAsked for some consignment and he wasn't trying to hear itSmoking mad Newports cause I'm doing court for an assaultThat I caught in Bridgeport, New YorkCatch me if you can like the ginger bread manYou better have your gat in handCause man[Hook: Inspectah Deck]A man with a dream with plans to make C.R.E.A.MStill struggling, Survival got me buggin'(Souls of a soldier in the streets of survival)Life as a shorty shouldn't be so rough(The rough life, I just be up nights. It got me)Still strugglin'(Campaign)Lay out your maintain(In the everyday struggle)[Verse 2: Raekwon]I grew up on the crime side, the New York Times sideStaying alive was no jiveHad secondhands, moms bounced on old manSo then we moved to Shaolin landA young youth, yo rockin' the gold tooth, 'Lo gooseOnly way I begin to G off was drug lootAnd let's start it like this son, rolling with this oneAnd that one, pulling out Gats for funBut it was just a dream for the teen, who was a fiendStarted smoking woolies at 16And running up in gates, and doing hits for high stakesMaking my way on fire escapesNo question I would speed, for cracks and weedThe combination made my eyes bleedNo question I would flow off, and try to get the dough allSticking up white boys in ball courtsMy life got no better, same damn 'Lo sweaterTimes is rough and tough like leatherFigured out I went the wrong routeSo I got with a sick tight clique and went all outCatchin' keys from across seasRollin' in MPV's, every week we made forty G'sYo brothers respect mine, or anger the TEC-9(Get live, muthaf~)
