It’s hard to make a change.

God, I’m too stuck in my ways.

Out here catching plays,

Praying for them better days.

Can’t hang, I ain’t no slave.

I’m too busy getting paid.

Grams all on da plate.

Maybe one day we’ll be straight.

Tryna get fat so I’m out here pushing weight.

Momma like, “Behave before they throw you in a cage.”

She’d say, “you put yo mind to it one day you gon be great.”

Feds on da way, kiss her cheek and drop the gate.


Rollin’ down the street playing my tunes.

Got locked up, they said I’m not getting out soon.

Called my mom, said she was on her way.

She came at 11 but was just too late.

So you know what that means?

I had to stay another day.

Where I Come From

Where I come from Hard Times
spread just like the flu,
but don’t let it stop you.

Where I come from, you’re always
being judged.
Don’t let that change you, just keep doing
what you love.

Where I come from if you want something
you have to work hard, if not,
you won’t make it far.

Where I come from everybody doubts you,
so you gotta succeed, as bad as you want to breathe.

Where I come from everything ain’t what it seems.
People act as your friend, but really the enemy.

The Studio

Where the words on the paper speak for themselves.

The room may be sound proof, but its the loudest.


The people walk with the music as it dances.

Turn the beat back with room for second chances.


Bass, it bumps like and earthquake in Cali.

Voices, they chant like people at pep rallies.


Headphones so small, but they seem the loudest.

In the room, you’re alone but the land is crowded.