[Phonte] I came from the bottom of the barrel No name brands, no logo's on my apparel Played out like a Blue Note, just ask Harold Hard times and then some A broken home, with a fixed income Until I started puttin' words together Adjectives and verbs together, and put them to beats Records labels hear my sounds, say me sh** sounds sweet And so they throw me on the road for a couple of weeks So the world can hear my devilish raps California, New York, New Orleans, Philly, Texan and back The delicate fact Is that they show me all these chicks and doe And I ain't never had this sh** before So I'm wildin', snortin', smokin' cancer sticks And f**in' these groupie hoes every chance I get Supermodels, gettin' next to them And catchin' ease a** from white broads cause that's safe s** to them Now I Travel the world and my records been played And people tellin' me, that hip hop's been saved And on the Finest of linen's my head's been laid But I get home and find none of my bills been paid?! And that's part of the game, you gotta respect it n***as don't see the lights, till it's disconnected And that can have a sobering effect It's the rap life But n***a, that sh** can all be over in a sec Better live it