[Hook]
Thank God for granting me this moment of clarity
This moment of honesty
The world'll feel my truths
All through my Hard Knock Lifetime, A Gift and a Curse
I gave you Volume after Volume of my work
So you can feel my truths
I built the Dynasty by being one of the realest n***as out
Way beyond a Reasonable Doubt
Y'all can't fill my shoes
From my Blueprint beginning to that Black Album ending
Listen close, you'll hear what I'm about
n***a, feel my truths
[Verse 1]
Pop died, didn't cry, didn't know him that well
Between him doing h**n and me doing crack sales
Put that in the eggshell, standing at the tabernacle
Rather the church, pretending to be hurt wouldn't work
So a smirk was all on my face
Like, "Damn, that man's face is just like my face"
So pop, I forgive you for all the sh** that I lived through
It wasn't all your fault, homie, you got caught
Into the same game I fought, that Uncle Ray lost
My big brothers and so many others I saw
I'm just glad we got to see each other
Talk and re-meet each other
Save a place in Heaven 'til the next time we meet forever!
[Hook]
[Verse 2]
Music business hate me ‘cause the industry ain't make me
Hustlers and boosters embrace me and the music I be making
I dumbed down for my audience to double my dollars
They criticized me for it, yet they all yell "holla"
If sk**s sold, truth be told, I'd probably be lyrically Talib Kweli
Truthfully I wanna rhyme like Common Sense
But I did 5 mill' – I ain't been rhyming like Common since
When your cents got that much in common
And you been hustling since your inception
f** perception! Go with what makes sense
Since I know what I'm up against
We as rappers must decide what's most important
And I can't help the poor if I'm one of them
So I got rich and gave back, to me that's the win/win
So next time you see the homie and his rims spin
Just know my mind is working just like them (rims, that is)
[Hook]
[Verse 3]
My homie Sig' was on a tier where no tears should fall
‘Cause he was on the block where no squares get off
See, in my inner circle, all we do is ball
'Til we all got triangles on our wall
Ain't just rapping for the platinum, y'all record
I recall, ‘cause I really been there before
Four scores and seven years ago, prepared the flow
Prepared for war, I should fear no man
You don't hear me though, these words ain't just 'pared to go
In one ear, out the other ear, no!
Yo, my balls and my word is alls I have
What you gonna do to me, n***a? Scars will scab
What, you gonna box me, homie? I can dodge a jab
Three shots couldn't touch me, thank God for that
I'm strong enough to carry Biggie Smalls on my back
And the whole BK, n***a, holla back!
[Hook]