[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