antwand

I had to hustle, my back to the wall, ashy knuckles Pockets filled with a lot of lint, not a cent Gotta vent, lot of innocent of lives lost on the project bench Whatchu hollerin? Gotta pay rent, bring dollars in By the bodega, iron under my coat, feelin braver Doo-rag wrappin my waves up, pockets full of hope Do not step to me - I'm awkward, I box leftier often My pops left me an orphan, my momma wasn't home Could not stress to me I wasn't grown; 'specially on nights I brought somethin home to quiet the stomach rumblings My demeanor - thirty years my senior My childhood didn't mean much, only raisin green up Raisin my fingers to critics; raisin my head to the sky Big I did it - multi before I die (nigga) No lie, just know I chose my own fate I drove by the fork in the road and went straightJay Z