| How’s it feel to be overlooked, underrated and hated?
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| Stomach pains in the belly of a city hungry
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| If one of us made it to prominence is a mentality
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| Of crabs in the barrel, reality is pretty ugly
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| Well, let’s back up cause my story ain’t a fairy tale, it’s really real
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| Ain’t had a chance, I ain’t have nothin', I could barely feel
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| All’s have was these neighborhoods I know very well
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| In a fiery will, some pages in my diary, I would spill
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| Lyrics on my paper, violence around me, it’s on me
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| I blindly feel my books like a zombie
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| Measurin' these stories with my bare hands
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| Pictures of this grimy game
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| I stall it like a pilot in a kamikaze plane
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| A decade of pain tells me I’m a grown man
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| I live my life holdin' death inside my own hands
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| The kids that I grew up with locked up or inside a box
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| There ain’t no runnin' here, your only choice is fight or box
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| The music pushed me through the ghosts that’s in the hall
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| Toasters and the dope sickness, ferociousness and all
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| The hopelessness of watchin' overdoses and the horror
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| Suicides and murders, I can’t take this shit no more
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| I had these posters on my wall and this music in my room
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| It took me out my world
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| It would shoot me to the moon
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| Yous' a fire burnin', I’m determined from this higher learnin'
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| Put me on a different road
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| Engine revving
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| Tires turnin'
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| Ever since I’m 7, I just know where I got to go
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| Trapped in this vicious dome, but I’m back
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| This is home
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| They said I could’ve been a star, but I lost my logic
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| My heart is harder than the bricks in the Boston projects |