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Africa, Purta Prince, Knoxville, Ann Van, Manhattan, South Band, Albany, Brooklyn [x4] |
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Brooklyn, New York to wherever you at |
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This is autobiographical takin' you back |
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I lived a Charmed Life, we're going back in the years |
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Imagine if my whole world flashed before your ears |
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[Verse 1] |
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I've been around the sun 25 times, |
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And I still find new ways to recognize shine |
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It's like life gets better with age |
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The way a song sounds better on stage |
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And rhyme books get better with each page |
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Before the first bar was written' |
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Or first verse was spittin' |
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Before label excets was bullshittin' |
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Way back when Aunty Leen, |
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Aunt Mimi, and Aunt Jackie were babysittin' |
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Before food was bitten, consumed through a nipple |
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I'm talkin about when times were simple |
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To make a long story short it goes |
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Purta Prince, Knoxville, Ann Van |
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Love in the City that never sleeps |
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Some thoughts to finish, I was born just a couple of weeks late |
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Stay home long just to mke sure everything was on straight |
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All systems go, cut the umbilical chord |
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From old earth to new earth Manhattan to turf |
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For what it's worth, my mom held me down one deep |
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Pops was absentee, but minds you don't see |
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It took a village to raise me, Leen tought me how to read |
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By the time I went to school, I was at high speed |
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Ready willing and able, Jackie tought me how to add |
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With dried up black-eyed peas on the kitchen table |
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And coming ome to a mother's love and good care |
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Never wantin' him, it was always enough |
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Except when it came to education, |
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It's like she had one rule, |
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There's no such thing as too much school |
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Not to mention Leen tought me how to play the piano |
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And then, every summer I was out at South Bnd |
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Grampaps a bartender at a country club |
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Me and my cousin from Grand Rapids was livin it up |
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Me Granny watchin Notre Dame football |
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Gold and blue, she said you can't beat the team and the beans too |
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Some say I got my sense of humor from her |
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And I got my patience from making models in the basement |
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Brooklyn, New York to where ever you at |
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This is autobiographical, takin you back |
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With no time for refrains, |
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I barely got enough time to explain |
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How hip hop captivated my brain |
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My momma raised me on Soul to Beethoven |
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Sports Club and private school put me on soft rock |
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Thats was cool, but i left C100 and WPLJ to find bliss from BLS and KISS |
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Video music rock showed me what time it is, wrote my first rhymes to Corey |
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But De La was (buck?), makin pause-mix demos with my main man Mark |
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We playin ball in the park, there were other heads too |
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I was the herb of the crew, then I learned what to do |
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Got my weight up at shcool, started battling fools |
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D-Night, my friendly rival at the lunch table |
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He started spark in the dark |
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But Damien and I date |
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I was down for a bit, but that was just to DJ |
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Started spinnin in the PJ's with Facho and them |
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Back and forth from the tables to the Pad and the pen |
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But then I had to do a bid up state, but wait |
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I wasn't incarcerated, but college-educated |
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At SUNY Albany I was a full time student, part-time emcee |
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At the time (Rawshack?) was the place to be |
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Livin' on dutch quall, started buildin' with gods |
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16 man squad, by the time my knowledge 120, we was just 5 deep |
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I went from Mecca to Albany a student, |
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And landed in Medena |
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A havis rhyme reacha |
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You recognize whats happenin' |
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I'm makin records and I'm winnin' |
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But thats another story and thats only the begening |
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Brooklyn, New York to where ever you at |
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This is autobiographocal, taken you back |
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Not my whole entire life, just a slice of the pie |
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A few pieces of the who but when, wheres, and whys |
