| (feat. Birdman, Rick Ross) [Webbie:] | |
| The lil soldier wit nothin clear to see wasn't nobody handin him shit | |
| Ridin round town glamour and glistenin | |
| Ya don't won't my position, | |
| I'm spittin facts | |
| Couldn't relax, the whole time | |
| I had weight up on my back | |
| Be black gon back, | |
| I got pistols on deck | |
| They gave cuz seven flat, how many niggas gon rat | |
| Check my tats, ya neva heard of dis ya suppose to man | |
| It had to fair, now | |
| I meet da family and dem, it packed at | |
| Madison Square | |
| I had career, | |
| I supposed to be right back there with dem | |
| I owed it to him, | |
| I know it | |
| I show it | |
| Don't wanna blow it or pour it | |
| For da streets, give me a beat ima roll it | |
| Show it wit dem leavin magic | |
| But I knew | |
| I had it in savage | |
| It got crucial | |
| I aint panic, when yall want it, | |
| I ran it I remember when my granny said anything was to happen | |
| From slangin, hustlin, to trappin | |
| Laugin, prayin jackin | |
| I'm blowin on granddaddy and all my kids happy its a miracle [Chorus: (2x)] | |
| It seem like | |
| I'm dreamin, ah somebody pinch me | |
| Am I supposed be in da spot dat | |
| I'm in, is dis really real | |
| All dese years, am | |
| I really here | |
| Have I really live what they call a miracle [Birdman:] | |
| How u shoot clips, put it in the air | |
| Mean mug dem niggas and have no fear | |
| Play the game wit dem stripes, put it in his life | |
| Ten on da mic, nigga do it da same night | |
| Its a miracle, da way | |
| I bend dem corners on dem | |
| Get up early on dem, get dis money on dem | |
| A miracle, a lot | |
| I bought on, crib | |
| I paid on, thangs | |
| I got on A miracle, fresh crush to diamond ice, place in one price, did it for one night | |
| A miracle, | |
| I don't lived da high life | |
| Shined in high lights, did it with gun fights | |
| A miracle, nigga it was hell we came in | |
| Money didn't come in, hell we went in | |
| A miracle, no time lyin homie | |
| Time for crime homie, time for dyin homie [Chorus (2x)] [Rick Ross:] | |
| Its truly a miracle, dat boy still a live | |
| Cuz I was sellin bo in '95 | |
| Ridin wit my boys deallin dope gettin high | |
| Crackers tryin to give me time, and we aint talkin 5 | |
| Niggaz talk fly so dat pistol by my side | |
| My baby mama f**kin, all my homies on da sly | |
| I see all through da corner of nigga eyes | |
| So I keep my shades on, and my face up at da sky | |
| Pistons get da power, snitchin is for cowards | |
| I got plasmas in da shower, and my bitches snortin powder | |
| I'm a g, my life a movie, | |
| I got rubber uzzi's in my jacuzzi | |
| They think | |
| I'm biggie, | |
| I'm bumpin juicey wit several grouppies | |
| I got beamers and business, bitch they all on duces | |
| I got da pruduct, and when ya drop it, it neva loses | |
| Da prey get prayed on, killers get prayed for | |
| It dis a dream, | |
| I pray I neva wake up [Chorus (2x)] |
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