Released: November 7, 2012
Featuring: Common K. Roosevelt Kent Boy
Songwriter: Kent Boy K. Roosevelt Common Hit-Boy
[Verse 1]
There came a life so bittersweet
Can’t waste your time looking up to niggas you'll never meet
Belly simming and thoughts of your father figure
When your mother fill a void and your granny’s a begotten sinner
We on, like mass when niggas was skipping class
Paying bills underage, we was learning a different math
Autographs for your belongings, of all things
Heat here, steady revolving in Palm Springs
What’s up?
[Hook]
Excuse me, I’m just trying to get a little light
I went from starving ever other night
Life full of drama, they gone make a nigga take something
Take something, when I’m only trying to make something, make something
I’m only trying to make something, make something
I’m only trying to make something, make something
They be flossing like it ain’t nothing, ain’t nothing
They gone make a nigga take something, take something
I’m only trying to make something, make something
I’m only trying to make something, make something
They be flossing like it ain’t nothing, ain’t nothing
They gone make a nigga take something, take something
[Verse 2: Hit-Boy]
Yeah, nigga – we here now, nigga
This is dedicated to the niggas who said we would never make it
Listen, too many days I had a lot on my plate, not enough food
Young, trying to chop up the cake, so I cut school
Yeah, I was clinching the gate when the bell rung
Question marks in from of my name like Questlove
Nigga, I’m gone – I need the newest kicks, passed over like a Jewish kid
Stretched out – Jesus, felt like the crucifix
Still I get my prayer on, blacked out, my Raider on
Lord, I know you never will forsake me, let me play the song
[Hook]
[Verse 3: Common]
Yeah… yeah… yeah…
I arrived from the Heavens to a street called 87
It’s crazy weapons, the way we steppin’, the daily lessons
Of the younger, we go from hunger games to wanting change
To see a bigger picture, money is the frame
From Basquiat to Nasty Nas we paint pictures
Words hit ya like ancient scriptures
We leave ‘em for the young ‘cause we can’t take ‘em with us
I coach niggas on how to get green like Doc Rivers
The plot shivers and shakes, I give ‘em work over breaks
New winner, killed the beef, because I know the stakes
It’s high like Wiz Khalifa, my man hold a fist of reefer
Put down your arm so I can reach ya, I’ll greet ya…
[Hook]
There came a life so bittersweet
Can’t waste your time looking up to niggas you'll never meet
Belly simming and thoughts of your father figure
When your mother fill a void and your granny’s a begotten sinner
We on, like mass when niggas was skipping class
Paying bills underage, we was learning a different math
Autographs for your belongings, of all things
Heat here, steady revolving in Palm Springs
What’s up?
[Hook]
Excuse me, I’m just trying to get a little light
I went from starving ever other night
Life full of drama, they gone make a nigga take something
Take something, when I’m only trying to make something, make something
I’m only trying to make something, make something
I’m only trying to make something, make something
They be flossing like it ain’t nothing, ain’t nothing
They gone make a nigga take something, take something
I’m only trying to make something, make something
I’m only trying to make something, make something
They be flossing like it ain’t nothing, ain’t nothing
They gone make a nigga take something, take something
[Verse 2: Hit-Boy]
Yeah, nigga – we here now, nigga
This is dedicated to the niggas who said we would never make it
Listen, too many days I had a lot on my plate, not enough food
Young, trying to chop up the cake, so I cut school
Yeah, I was clinching the gate when the bell rung
Question marks in from of my name like Questlove
Nigga, I’m gone – I need the newest kicks, passed over like a Jewish kid
Stretched out – Jesus, felt like the crucifix
Still I get my prayer on, blacked out, my Raider on
Lord, I know you never will forsake me, let me play the song
[Hook]
[Verse 3: Common]
Yeah… yeah… yeah…
I arrived from the Heavens to a street called 87
It’s crazy weapons, the way we steppin’, the daily lessons
Of the younger, we go from hunger games to wanting change
To see a bigger picture, money is the frame
From Basquiat to Nasty Nas we paint pictures
Words hit ya like ancient scriptures
We leave ‘em for the young ‘cause we can’t take ‘em with us
I coach niggas on how to get green like Doc Rivers
The plot shivers and shakes, I give ‘em work over breaks
New winner, killed the beef, because I know the stakes
It’s high like Wiz Khalifa, my man hold a fist of reefer
Put down your arm so I can reach ya, I’ll greet ya…
[Hook]