Verse 1
Riding through Queens, strapped wit two Glocks
Screaming thug life like I think I'm 2Pac
But I'm not
My name is Kay, a young thug from da island
These motherf**ing streets has turned me into a tyrant
Tired of this thug sh**, tired of duckin' sirens
All my enemies annihilated, perpetually silenced
Thank you lord, I got guns to buss
I got weed to puff
A bad b**h to f**, I don't need that much
I do this for da hood, when ya dreams are crushed
And you're collapsing to da ground, I'll be ya crutch
Send my love to Shyne, I buss shots to ya sh** n***a
Godfather buried alive, I buss shots to ya hits n***a
I feel ya pain, sh**'s excruciating
I'm da hottest n***a in New York since da 50 Cent reign, deny me of that claim, you gotta be f**ing hallucinating
Uh...
Cho
Crown me king, them other n***as ain't real like me
Them other n***as ain't real like me
Crown me king
Them other n***as ain't real
(Shyne Talking)
You dig... Like you know I wrote a lot of records in the Clinton Dannemora, Same place where 2Pac was locked up at, Nah mean... I wrote some of them records on Rikers Island
Verse 2
I been hustin' since I was six
My heart froze when my brother gave me four bricks
That was da 90's... oh sh**
Moved over ten thousand pounds of weed by o' 6
Still I ain't rich
This ain't no fairytale, I never had a childhood
I'd change it all if I could
Been languished all my life, all the hurt I've known
So who da f** gon tell me I don't deserve da throne
The goddess Arinniti blessed me, gave me her last kiss
Crowned me king, them other rapper's music wacker than Usher's last disc
Let it breathe
Take it how you wanna
Here's the recipe for love, bake it how you wanna
Buss a shot for my n***as thuggin' on da corner
Buss a shot for my n***a Fra**, the streets give you love, hope you give it back, and free da Worl' Boss, keep it thuggin' on da Gaza
Cho
Crown me king, them other n***as ain't real like me
Them other n***as ain't real like me
Them other n***as ain't real
(Nas Talking)
I, I started to dislike the fact that people are making money... Like, more than liking the state of music
Verse 3
Spent so many years perfecting this flow
Made my first demo when I was thirteen years old
sh** was flawed
Decision was hard
I still put it out for y'all
A tape filled wit imperfect songs
This Is My Life... Volume one
I pray for Jamaica, all the ghetto children
Growing up without a father, cause the cops k**ed em
Now their name in black ribbons
As I walk the battlefield, Sela**ie is my armor
Protected by Allah, anointed by The Dalai Lama
Awaiting my karma
Easy to lose faith cause redemption is scarce like a fierce iguana
Me and Nicko be thuggin', holdin' it down
Been avoiding my fears, I'm owning it now
Queens, New York, now you're stuck wit me
Brooklyn, Bronx, I hope you f** wit me
Come on
Cho
Crown me king, them other n***as ain't real like me
Them other n***as ain't real
Them other n***as ain't real
(Jay-Z Talking)
Rap is poetry and it is, it isn't just... you know, it's thought provoking, it's thought behind it and there's great writing in rap as well
Outro
Uh, Shout out to my n***a Lyfe Jennings
Welcome home n***a
Cry Nation, Ikay
Make my own beats, spit my own rhymes
No need to look any further
We here
Queens, Kingston Jamaica, Da River
We in da building