B. Martin - Said It All lyrics

(feat. P. Diddy, Eminem, Obie Trice) Ih.. ih, ih (it has been) It has been, it has been, it has been It has been said, that there has been known to be bloodshed Over bread, men who have bled to d**h, dead {what?} Strapped to beds, pipe bombs, dynamite, lead Money power respect, street cred, yeah It's scary ain't it? Picture yourself goin out as a hero {uhh} Picture mural pictures of us painted all over street corners Fans meet to mourn us, while we meet the coroners Notorious tried to warn us We watched, so many Biggie backed off of {ha ha ha} Biggie's back and 'Pac's, landmarks, history in rap Statistically in fact; it's so sad to see us re-enact these tragic events, which lead us back To where we left off on March 9th To come from such hard knock lifes And make it up out of 'em, hit the spotlights And, once they're on us this is our lives Thrust out for all eyes to cast upon us to see who can last the longest And he who lasts the longest, must be the strongest {uh-huh} In this concrete jungle, where this dog eat dog mentality comes from It's origin, which is usually originated from cats who starvin Or it could just be somebody's horror, that just horri-fies And applies to his persona or the sizes in his entou-rage, that intimidates the people To the point that you know that he's gangster He ain't just say sh**, you just believe it Since B.I.B. taught us n***az to think big I'm been about my business since then, so anxious {what?} It ain't how we live, it's what he said, he did it for Brooklyn This I took in, sent chills through my skin Vicious, I'm experiencin the same sights as him It's what excited Obie to write these poems Rollin, goin through the same sh** he spoken Open up my eyes so there's no limit in them skies When _Ready to Die_ was a sick part of my life {yeah} Palmin that forty-five, plottin to pop my mind Then that crooked eye Jamaican I'd so many times rewind Got me to walk a straight line and get up on my grind Get up out the system, who could give him better signs No pop of mine could top Big Poppa rhymes So possibly I'd be popular huh? {uh-huh} That's the inspiration I got from my n***a B.I. I took him from coal to diamond, I molded his mind Enter the most phenomenal artist of any and all time I made a Frankenstein, my design impressed Backpackers and press who said my house was a mess Critics lashed, said I made a fortune off of his pa**in {what?} All I did was build a dynasty, off of his pa**ion And I'm addressin the adolesencents absent to who he is The original king of New York, Christopher Wallace... This is a promise on Diddy's honor, I'm a father T'Yanna And teach her that with all the drama don't even bother... On repeat, all of your albums play back to back {yeah} And I visit your grave cause our friendship's intact An immaculate concept, extravagant progress Bullet wounds left in my heart, I'm yellin "God bless" Regardless to critics yellin that East/West I seen the game losin, I'm just pressin the reset {uhh} And when the ressurection of you shines through an individual Lyrical enough to wear the same crown of thorns literally! I'ma pay homage, Brooklyn's finest Whether it's Queens or Harlem it'll be instant stardom, n***a!