[Intro]
Yeah
Joyner
Look
Yeah (Uh)
[Chorus]
I'm the realest one I know, tell them niggas not to play, ayy
I got secrets that I'm taking to the grave, ayy
Sixteen first time I caught a case
Selling crack tryna get the fuck up out my mama place, ayy
Niggas trapped, I was plottin' my escape, ooh
Gettin' high, we was locked in outer space, ooh
I ain't perfect, might've made a few mistakes
Might've cheated on my bitch, but I knew she woulda stayed, ooh, ooh
[Verse 1]
Look, I'm ill-matic with a street dream
I'm a independеnt one-man street team
Told my bitch keep the dishеs and the sheets clean
I keep the pot full 'cause my son can't eat steam
I'm just tryna keep my feet clean
Snitch niggas, they be tryna keep the streets clean
Why you niggas buy clothes full of cheap seams?
I'ma shoot porn for the generic delete scenes
I'ma suffer for the wrongs that I remember
Wrong address, the karma get brought to the sender
In a room full of artists, I get brought to the center
Shots to the armor sound like a fork in a blender
My money talk, but you don't want to talk to the lender
My money long, the only thing short is my temper
I drive by the showcase cartin' a fender
I'm lucky that the law never caught the offender
They tell me I learned everything the hard way, uh
If I make it to the charts it'll be a long way, yeah
Now I look up at the charts and see a entrée
Now I look up at the charts and see a parfait
Y'all lookin' in the mirror and see Andre
Now I look up in the mirror and see Nas, Jay and Dame
Or part Dame, way before it all changed
Way, way before the part where Roc-A-Fella part ways (Uh)
Yeah
Joyner
Look
Yeah (Uh)
[Chorus]
I'm the realest one I know, tell them niggas not to play, ayy
I got secrets that I'm taking to the grave, ayy
Sixteen first time I caught a case
Selling crack tryna get the fuck up out my mama place, ayy
Niggas trapped, I was plottin' my escape, ooh
Gettin' high, we was locked in outer space, ooh
I ain't perfect, might've made a few mistakes
Might've cheated on my bitch, but I knew she woulda stayed, ooh, ooh
[Verse 1]
Look, I'm ill-matic with a street dream
I'm a independеnt one-man street team
Told my bitch keep the dishеs and the sheets clean
I keep the pot full 'cause my son can't eat steam
I'm just tryna keep my feet clean
Snitch niggas, they be tryna keep the streets clean
Why you niggas buy clothes full of cheap seams?
I'ma shoot porn for the generic delete scenes
I'ma suffer for the wrongs that I remember
Wrong address, the karma get brought to the sender
In a room full of artists, I get brought to the center
Shots to the armor sound like a fork in a blender
My money talk, but you don't want to talk to the lender
My money long, the only thing short is my temper
I drive by the showcase cartin' a fender
I'm lucky that the law never caught the offender
They tell me I learned everything the hard way, uh
If I make it to the charts it'll be a long way, yeah
Now I look up at the charts and see a entrée
Now I look up at the charts and see a parfait
Y'all lookin' in the mirror and see Andre
Now I look up in the mirror and see Nas, Jay and Dame
Or part Dame, way before it all changed
Way, way before the part where Roc-A-Fella part ways (Uh)
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