I'm on a neverending vacation
Until my tires go flat
Or everything f-cked up and gonna fall off track
Picture me like a Kodak
Re-up, nigga, they know that
Feeling like I ain't got shit
Work in back of a throwback
I'm cold up in this hallway
Hustling out it all day
Trying to get this money
And that Audi 8 in all grey
Haters say it's over but you can tell them I'm busy
Professor with the books
? with a Smith &a Wesson
Trying to make it to the top, 100,000 miles away
Somewhere in Gabon, where guerillas known to fly cage
Pedal to the floor, I don't know where I'm headed
But I know if I'm headed somewhere that ain't for me, then you can get it
Minutes from losing focus, sick is from insane
Tell em I'm coming for it, stomach said the same thing
I'm nothing like a loser, knew I was here to win
F-ck if they close the door, knock tonight, I'm coming in
I gotta make it
I gotta make it though
I gotta make it
I gotta make it though
I'm from the bottom but I still try
Feeling like there ain't a chance but I still try
The streets is all I know
But still I got so far to go
I used to play the corner with a 40 on my hip
Hanging in my ? how I'm gonna get up out this bitch
Coppers spedning erry minute, I was dirty as a broom
I used to take it in the crib and write my raps up in the room
Trying to chase a dream
Who thought that I'd be cover of these magazines
Fresh from a jail cell, greasier than Vaseline
I went to BET from running around with Mack machines
Busting shots and ducking shots with killers right in back of me
I never had a choice, I never really spoke a lot
I never had a voice until I started making noise
I went from running with my boys to crushing niggas round the world
Them bitches used to turn me down but now
I'm f-cking all them girls, yeah. I'm from a city where these
Young'uns doomed. I was upset my father died and turned a young'n?.
For every killer, that was killed, there go another goon
So every track they send my way I'm gonna go summer june
I gotta make it
I gotta make it though
I gotta make it
I gotta make it though
I'm from the bottom but I still try
Feeling like there ain't a chance but I still try
The streets is all I know
But still I got so far to go
Even with the magazine covers and the articles
I still got so far to go
9th-degree black belt in the Art of Blow
Cook pot and a spoon in my arsenal
School of Hard Knocks, made the honor roll
7 grams to a key, I was on a roll
Haters couldn't stand it, I took it for granted
Misplaced a bag of money and didn't panic
Yeah, on my road to the riches
Baby-blue diamonds and them hot yellow bitches
You can't cancel our Christmas
Italian roadsters, high yellow stitching
Yeah, what the f-ck is y'all pitching?
Hall of Fame with the O's Cal Ripken
My hands still in the snow like mittens
Got my weight belt on: power-lifting
PUSH!
I gotta make it
I gotta make it though
I gotta make it
I gotta make it though
I'm from the bottom but I still try
Feeling like there ain't a chance but I still try
The streets is all I know
But still I got so far to go