Sometimes I just feel like, quittin I still might
Why do I put up this fight, why do I still write
Sometimes it’s hard enough just dealin with real life
Sometimes I wanna jump on stage and just kill mics
And show these people what my level of skill’s like
But I’m still white, sometimes I just hate life
Somethin ain’t right, hit the brake lights
Case of the stage fright, drawin a blank like
Da-duh-duh-da-da, it ain’t my fault
Great then I falls, my insides crawl
and I clam up {*wham*} I just slam shut
I just can’t do it, my whole manhood’s
just been stripped, I have just been vicked
So I must then get, off the bus then split
Man fuck this shit; yo, I’m goin the fuck home
World on my shoulders as I run back to this 8 Mile Road
[Chorus]
I’m a man, I’ma make a new plan
Time for me to just stand up, and travel new land
Time to really just take matters into my own hands
Once I’m over these tracks man I’ma never look back
(8 Mile Road) And I’m gone, I know right where I’m goin
Sorry momma I’m grown, I must travel alone
And go follow the footsteps I’m makin my own
Only way that I know how to escape from this 8 Mile Road
I’m walkin these train tracks, tryin to regain back
the spirit I had ‘fore I go back to the same crap
To the same plant, and the same pants
Tryin to chase rap, gotta move ASAP
And get a new plan, momma’s got a new man
Poor little baby sister, she don’t understand
Sits in front of the TV, buries her nose in the pad
And just colors until the crayon gets dull in her hand
While she colors her big brother and mother and dad
Ain’t no tellin what really goes on in her little head
Wish I could be the daddy that neither one of us had
But I keep runnin from somethin I never wanted so bad!
Sometimes I get upset, cause I ain’t blew up yet
It’s like I grew up, but I ain’t grow me two nuts yet
Don’t gotta rep my step, don’t got enough pep
The pressure’s too much man, I’m just tryin to do what’s best
And I try, sit alone and I cry
Yo I won’t tell no lie, not a moment goes by
That I don’t pray to the sky, please I’m beggin you God
Please don’t let me be bitchin holdin no regular job
Yo I hope you can hear me homey wherever you are
Yo I’m tellin you dawg I’m bailin this trailer tomorrow
Tell my mother I love her, kiss baby sister goodbye
Say whenever you need me baby, I’m never too far
But yo I gotta get out there, the only way I know
And I’ma be back for you, the second that I blow
On everything I own, I’ll make it on my own
Off to work I go, back to this 8 Mile Road
[Chorus]
You gotta live it to feel it, you didn’t you wouldn’t get it
Or see what the big deal is, why it was and it still is
To be walkin this borderline of Detroit city limits
It’s different, it’s a certain significance, a certificate
of authenticity, you’d never even see
But it’s everything to me, it’s my credibility
You never seen heard smelled or met a real MC
who’s incredible upon the same pedestal as me
But yet I’m still unsigned, havin a rough time
Sit on the porch with all my friends and kick dumb rhymes
Go to work and serve MC’s in the lunchline
But when it comes crunch time, where do my punchlines go
Who must I show, to bust my flow
Where must I go, who must I know
Or am I just another crab in the bucket
Cause I ain’t havin no luck with this little Rabbit so fuck it
Maybe I need a new outlet, I’m startin to doubt shit
I’m feelin a little skeptical who I hang out with
I look like a bum, yo my clothes ain’t about shit
if the Salvation Army tryin to salvage an outfit
And it’s cold, tryin to travel this road
Plus I feel like I’m on stuck in this battlin mode
My defenses are so up, but one thing I don’t want
is pity from no one, the cit
[Jay-Z]
Yeah, Renegades is back
M the B the sick,
It’s Young, Freeway, 8 Miles, let’s go
8 miles and running, got my 7th album droppin’
And my 8th album comin’, feedin’ a thousand growlin’ stomachs
But I can rewind the calendar back, back when it was now or nothin’
People said I would amount to nothin’, that I had talent for nothin’
Said I would succumb to violence or be silenced by your gunmen
I could just hear the folks now, “He got what he had coming”
Now that my eighth album’s comin’ everybody’s smilin’
Wantin’ something, claimin’ that they done something for him
Got their Jay-Z pom poms and their whole uniform
Claimin’ they been runnin’ and tellin’ everybody like Martin Lawerence
‘Bout how hot my rap performance was before I was who I was
Claimin’ that they threw it up before I threw it up
You what? Where was you before I blew this up?
I didn’t see you in the courtroom when everybody was suin’ us
I didn’t see you in all black when everybody was suitin’ up
Back on the block, gettin’ it in, there wasn’t no you with us
[Chorus: Jay-Z]
8 miles and running, got my 7th album droppin’
And my 8th album comin’, feedin’ a thousand growlin’ stomachs, Free
[Freeway]
6 miles and running, got my fist strip poppin’
And my first album comin’, feedin’ twenty growlin’ stomachs
[Jay-Z]
8 miles and running, got my 7th album droppin’
And my 8th album comin’, feedin’ a thousand growlin’ stomachs, Free
[Freeway]
6 miles and running, got my fist strip poppin’
And my first album comin’, feedin’ twenty growlin’ stomachs
[Freeway]
6 miles and running in the Pontiac
Six thousand eighty six, trans might shift while the engine run
Anyone tell ya rider give me one more chance
Hear them smokers screamin’ “One more gram”
So I’ma bring ’em one
Homie, son, and my pop, stick close to my MOMMA
Keep toasters for DRAMA, mix a lot with my son
My son growin’ and he learnin’ a lot
That’s when them toasters will the burners will pop, brain on ya own
Well a nigga, tell ’em niggas
That’s like the biblical scripture
Look back, turn assault like the sin is in
Most of ya heartless and self-centered like “Me Shaq and me Shaq”
Set up ya brother cuz you jealous nigga
The heat back, like you never left
I ever rep, cops watch every step
Six miles and running dodgin’ every trap
The rap gingerbread man, cheer us up
You precious breath, State P the second attack
[Chorus]
[Jay-Z]
Back when nobody would found he had talent, nobody would sign me
Nobody believed in me, nobody but mommy blindly
But how can she deny me? Me being the youngest runt
To come up outta her tummy, she got nothin’ but love for me
When niggas would want me, the industry shunned me
That’s why I’m takin’ all the industry’s money
Revenge is sweet honey, we run this
Young is the illsest, Free is the future
Bean’s and Bleek is right now, we can see our 8 miles nigga
[Chorus] |
Verse One: Phife Dawg
Went to Carvel to get a milk shake
This honey ripped me off of my loot case
The car oh yeah there’s money in my jacket
Somebody broke into my ride and cold macked it
Yo tip I tell you man the devil’s trying it
But I’m goin to stay strong cause I ain’t bying it
Tonight I’m taking Sherry out
I don’t have jack to wear
You know I’ve got to look dipped in the freshest gear
Cool I found something so I ironed it
I think I caught up on the phone
Oh shit I’m trying it
Will someone tell me what did I do to deserve this?
I think I’ll pull out my super ? and serve this
My little brother wants Barney, cool I’m getting it
Took him down to Kay-Bee, they ain’t sellin it
Here we go with the crying, yo he’s throwing fits
My blood pressure blowing up, I can’t take this shit
Finally got what he wanted now he’s good to go
Again the robers smashed, were’s my radio?
One time the car was in the shop I had to borrow see…
They had no mercy on the car oh you he’ll kill me
Where the hell can Nicki be? I’m goin to smack her up
I got the tickets for the Knicks and she cold stood me up
I need to hit a hunny off yo drill pas me the phone
Pulled out my hooker hoes, oh yo Sheela’s home
Steady smiling like a mother yo I’m wrecked to bone
Went down on hun, she’s in the red zone
Stressed out more than one could ever be
Forever trying to clear the sample for my new LP
With all these trials and tribulations yo I’ve been affected
And to top it off, Starks got ejected
Refrain
Verse Two: Phife Dawg
Just last week my girl was stressing me
Now her best friend be underssing me
Well I was lovin her by the moon lit
Now I’m tricking on her like Kinte’
Bought a bag of izm from the smoke shop
Walking towards the car, here come the damn cops
Now I’m station bound for the thai sticks
I bought it for my man, I don’t believe this shit
Coach sat me down from the ball team
Cause I was breakin niggaz on the inseams
Some niggas cross town was trying to stick me
All I had was shorts, a dollar fifty
Picked up this gir in the hoopty
Just because of her rhymes she tried to soup me
Pay for this and pay for that loot for nails and hair
Who the hell do you think I am, Mr. Belvedere?
Go and get a bloddy job then can we look cute
Even if you get me boots, you’ll neva see my loot
She wasn’t even all of that just anothe hooker
Took the journey that ass way, quick like Chucky Booker
Sometimes you got put the hoes in their freakin place
Just move from in front me with your botty face!
My man Mohammed in the house, huh [come on, come on]
Zulu Nation in the house, huh [come on, come on]
Sub Rock is in the house, huh [come on, come on]
My man Skeff is in the house, huh [come on, come on]
Jarobi White is in the house, huh [come on, come on]
Bob Power in the house, huh [come on, come on]
My man Eric in the house, huh [come on, come on]
My man Lytcha in the house, huh [come on, come on]
[help me, help me, help me, help me, help me, help me……..MUHAMMAD!!]
|
[Common]
Yeah yo yo yo yo yo yo
Yo a touch of jazz y’all yeah yeah
?? y’all yo they got us on the run like
[Jill Scott]
8 minutes to sunrise
Oh baby now what are we gonna do? (I don’t know..)
Pressure is mountin
Oh baby now how we gonna get through? (I don’t know)
Can’t go left (uh uh) can’t go right (uh uh)
Don’t know how we made it through the night (c’mon c’mon c’mon)
7 minutes to sunrise
Oh baby now, what are we gonna do? (Do it, do it..)
[Common]
It was once said by Black Thought that +Things Fall Apart+
Knew I shouldn’t have been messin with dude’s girl from start
But I pimp from the heart, the art of it made it interestin
Plus me and sister blend before we got intimate
Friend or no friend, my man caught wind
This chick is payin me, it’ll either cost me or cost him
Told her she shoulda lost him (when?) a while ago
Cause dude’ll drink a pile of Mo’ and defile her yo
I ain’t here to start on this [nigga] for me to wreck his broad
you could tell what I thought of this [nigga]
Nickname was Smoke, don’t know if that was cause of cigarettes
(or what?) or guns he tote, he called shots on the deck
so I wasn’t tryin to call his bluff, by his persona
you could see, he think he tough!
If that wasn’t enough, old girl had his son
This is Wild like the West I’m like Jesse on the run, uhh
[Jill Scott]
6 minutes to sunrise
Oh baby now, what are we gonna do? (I, don’t, know)
Pressure is mountin
Oh baby now, how we gon’ get through? (I, don’t, know)
Can’t go left and (uh-uh) can’t go right and (uh-uh)
Don’t know, how we made it through the night (yo, we got..)
5 minutes to sunrise
Oh baby now, what are we gonna do? (Do it, do it..)
[Common]
I understand that time is runnin out, I’m thinkin of town-skippin
Got a Chevy but the alternator be trippin
I’m hittin rum straight, thinkin of a route to truncate
The streets is watchin, out is one way I put myself in his Nike’s
His position is, “Aight man, somebody bonin my lady”
Probably snap like Rod-man
My plan was to meet at this bar called the Tiki (when?)
’round four, when she was comin she would beep me
I sat deep in the corner, drinkin zombies, becomin one by now
Wonderin if my style would support her and her child
Out the corner of my eye saw this stud I recognized (who?)
One of Smoke’s guys, to stay out of sight I tried
Told Jill Scott to meet we coulda picked a better spot
On some “Nobody’s Supposed to Be Here” [shit] like Deborah Cox
Looked at my watch, [shit] I don’t even got a watch
Felt for my glock, damnit I don’t even got a glock, yo
[Jill Scott]
4 minutes to sunrise
Oh baby now, what are we gonna do? (I don’t know..)
Pressure is mountin
Oh baby now, how we gon’ get through? (I, don’t, know)
Can’t go left and (uh-uh) can’t go right and (uh-uh)
Don’t know, how we made it through the night (c’mon c’mon)
3 minutes to sunrise
Oh baby now, what are we gonna do? (Do it, do it..)
[Common]
Pressure puh-pressure what? The pressure’s cookin
It ain’t good lookin, like a black promoter I’m talkin bookin
Not that I’m spooked of dude, I could whup him
But he was on the horn informin the rest of them hoodlums (aight)
Usually I wouldn’t fight over a woman, old girl had a sun-shine
was messed up, on Smoke’s payroll was one-time
My pager went off, it read one line: “Come get me
from Halsted,” I’m thinkin this is monkey bar [shit]
Went to the phone quick, called her (what happened?) Her line was busy
Situation number nine, got my mind dizzy
Wondered if this plan was designed to get me
I’ve been drinkin too strong to be thinkin too long
Like 40 goin North I’m doin 50, headed for the spot
Askin God to be with me, and lately
she has been actin shifty — (but what?
[Chorus]
1 – Never let a nigga know yo business
2 – Always start what you finish
3 – Stay on yo note don’t slip
4 – Be careful cause these streets are a trip
5 – Always keep a glock in yo whip
6 – Real niggaz stick to the script
7 – Don’t slang crack where you stay
8 – Just don’t do it okay
[Lil’ Flip]
In my hood all you see is dope fiends and dope dealers
Rats and roaches police and 4 wheelers
Metro’s gun shoots piccalo
30-year-old men swingin drinkin bigalow
Stop signs but don’t nobody ever stop
Theres ten groups in my hood but don’t nobody drop
Plus the block is hot, and this dope game cold
Throught rain sleet or snow birds gotta get sold
[Somebody]
Birds get sold, I stand and watch the game unfold
My thing gets low, I teach the grain get gain and blowed
Leave the scene wit no clue
(Its kinda like you snooze you loose)
If you don’t fuck wit me I aint fuckin wit you
[Lil’ Flip]
Check the game ’til you see my weapons aim
Nigga I aint a rookie I’m a veteran mayne
[Chorus]
[Lil’ Flip]
Hustle for yo whip, stack fo yo mill’
Buy a cookie cutter then I’m in the wind
Back to home base, I’m on a paper chase
I’m not a case catcher so I can’t catch a case
Money on my mind, and how am I gonna get it
I dress like I’m broke but I’m really running the city
Bricks turn into crumbs, gallons turn into one
Narcotics distubuting using guns
Money, cash, hoes, swangin gas full
If you don’t pay the bills man thats all I know
Hustlers never sleep and sleepers never hustle
I’m on the interstate with a brick in my muffler
Keep it on a low cause niggas be snitchin
They’ll do anything so they won’t see prison
Man you never know yo cousin can be a snitch
And a month later undercovers taking yo piss
I’m off the block, somebody better call the cops
Shippin and handlin, when I’m not feedin the family
The family don’t feed me I feed the family
[Chorus] |
| | 