[Verse 1: Joell Ortiz]

Nah everything ain't all good im still in the gutter
6th floor project doors living with my mother
2 years ago my homie died he coulda been my brother
Shotgun wound to the chest- some Dominican fucker
Cash is low see i dont wanna sell crack
The time is long and it's hard to get your bail back
I took the city job test but i failed that
I breathe in disappointment and exhale raps
The pen became my own friend as a only child
And I ain't have a outfit on Easter to go to Coney Island
Older dudes had jokes fiends was gettin high in the lobby
I used to walk through that smoke
Shittin on my third toilet i had two that broke
The tub had the filthiest soap dish and new ass soap
Moms cried i used to tell her "dont do that yo"
We gon be good ya boy working on a new rap flow
Here i am Joell Ortiz in the flesh and yes
There will come a time when rhymes will be fresh to death
But i can't forget welfare never sent the check
They sent a letter the money for backrent was kept
Sent us on our merry way with a couple of stamps
Moms used to try to hide a little under the lamp
Don't ask me what im heated for
Moms did what she did I mean it is what it is
But I needed more

{Chorus}

I'll find some way
To make it out of here someway
Because i need so much more (so much more)
I'll find some way
I gotta move my things out today
Because i need so much more (so much more)

[Verse 2: Papoose]

Shots gettin exchanged pots hittin the flames
A Glock clicking with rage a cop hit with a gauge
Some n***as live to get paid they try different trades
Apply ignorant ways and lie stiff in the grave
Them Stuy n***as insane they stopped him on the train
Robbed him for his chain and popped six in his waist
Them broads wicked for caine they all trickin for change
Aw shit it's a shame who gon stick with the blame
Slob dick and behave when our image is strained
They heartstricken with pain they walk sick with a plague
Abolished in the grave then pop shit and complain
The more n***as get laid the more syphillus and Aids
Pawning they kids' jewelry get high sniffin for days
A mother's watch in the pawn shop gettin appraised
The projects is a maze of hard shit for the brave
The jobs minimum wage we all living as slaves
The object of the game is not just to get fame
Do not listen to lames they mind tricking your brain
The convicts is deranged that gotta sit in the cage
Inmates work in the sun while cops sit in the shade
My sidekick got a page you dry snitches on stage
I cross bridges with blades and carve stitches I bang
I went to Coney Island when i was grippin them thangs
Allah's scriptures get praise when ya'll wiggers afraid

[Chorus} 3x