[Verse 1: Joell Ortiz] Nah everything ain't all good im still in the gutter 6th floor project doors living with my mother 2 years ago my homie died he coulda been my brother Shotgun wound to the chest- some Dominican f**er Cash is low see i dont wanna sell crack The time is long and it's hard to get your bail back I took the city job test but i failed that I breathe in disappointment and exhale raps The pen became my own friend as a only child And I ain't have a outfit on Easter to go to Coney Island Older dudes had jokes fiends was gettin high in the lobby I used to walk through that smoke sh**tin on my third toilet i had two that broke The tub had the filthiest soap dish and new a** soap Moms cried i used to tell her "dont do that yo" We gon be good ya boy working on a new rap flow Here i am Joell Ortiz in the flesh and yes There will come a time when rhymes will be fresh to d**h But i can't forget welfare never sent the check They sent a letter the money for backrent was kept Sent us on our merry way with a couple of stamps Moms used to try to hide a little under the lamp Don't ask me what im heated for Moms did what she did I mean it is what it is But I needed more {Chorus} I'll find some way To make it out of here someway Because i need so much more (so much more) I'll find some way I gotta move my things out today Because i need so much more (so much more) [Verse 2: Papoose] Shots gettin exchanged pots hittin the flames A Glock clicking with rage a cop hit with a gauge Some n***as live to get paid they try different trades Apply ignorant ways and lie stiff in the grave Them Stuy n***as insane they stopped him on the train Robbed him for his chain and popped six in his waist Them broads wicked for caine they all trickin for change Aw sh** it's a shame who gon stick with the blame Slob dick and behave when our image is strained They heartstricken with pain they walk sick with a plague Abolished in the grave then pop sh** and complain The more n***as get laid the more syphillus and Aids Pawning they kids' j**elry get high sniffin for days A mother's watch in the pawn shop gettin appraised The projects is a maze of hard sh** for the brave The jobs minimum wage we all living as slaves The object of the game is not just to get fame Do not listen to lames they mind tricking your brain The convicts is deranged that gotta sit in the cage Inmates work in the sun while cops sit in the shade My sidekick got a page you dry snitches on stage I cross bridges with blades and carve stitches I bang I went to Coney Island when i was grippin them thangs Allah's scriptures get praise when ya'll wiggers afraid [Chorus} 3x