Too many changes, you changed from your greatnessBecome a byproduct of yourself all for the paper regardlessThe markets see you as a old-ass artistThe McCartneys live past the Lennons, but Lennon’s the hardestStay on your path, stay on your craftThey just want you to switch your lanes up so they can hate on your assWhat’s in a name? What’s in a name? Suffering and painGuts, blood, and tears, aim straight, game face, king’s graceI came in this thinkin’ you was gon’ be this great thing‘Cause I seen the greats do it with a great queenWhat these kings have in common? They had women who solidMalcolm needed Betty, I met some queens who wasn’t readyThey envy the unhappiness of the greatsThey don’t have a fulfilled life yet, so they searchin’ for waysTo feel what Sam felt, play the hand Marvin was dealtA Vandross, here’s the cure, the antidoteA thousand milligrams, make sure you don’t overdoseTurned to a businessman, used to serve ’em in the coldCold gang, don’t get exposed, stories get toldYou glamorize the game, it ain’t a glorious roadRest in peace Kobe and Nip, that’s off the ripKing shit, if it ain’t about fam, it don’t mean shitThe cure, love all the allureDonuts rotten, the phone tapped, tappin’ in with LordRoll the creditsCuban link QB chain belong in the MOMASo boomerang, you salute my twenty-seven summersRolls-Royce Brigade just ’cause it go with the momentPac saw the chain, got his medallion, I won’tInsinuate imitation ’cause I copied his stomachKings honor kings, straight from my pops to my son’s shitSteak tartare bloody, mercury levels from raw fishSushi for lunch, waiter at the table, the cork twistI’m studied like a book by manyThey give me looks of envy, I took the BentleyWhite chick like Liz Taylor might get the BentaygaOn my Rick James behavior
Life is school for the soul and I’m in life seven alreadyLife’s simple but heavy, incomprehensible shitEverything from sexy to deadly, I done been through that shitStill goin’ deeper like I grew a new inch on my dickWe looked at robbin’ as a way of resolving our problemsMy moms cooked food, but some of my niggas was starvingAnd whatever they was down to do, I was with ’em regardlessTurns out I was hungry and was hittin’ the hardestThe scissor was sharper, my predictions was on itNo fortune teller, just going off regular signsNiggas often tell ya they movesWithout a word, just reading they mindWasn’t needin’ no nineCorner executive born in ghetto hellWhere metal yell especially over necklacesLife lessons is karmaWhatever you dish out come back as blessings or to haunt yaCould miss your kids and hit your grandkids for your dishonorThat’s generational curses, they said they want the old Nas backPlay the Clue tapes for old versesMessin’ my homies’ lives up, sayin’ Nas will rise ’em upLike they wasn’t live enough, many lives I’ve touchedCan I get a witness?Can I get a witness?I need a witness, drinkin’ three at night on some Bridge shitWearin’ shorts and Timbs, summer night on some Bridge shitParty with gangsters, gettin’ right on some Bridge shit (Yeah)Like MC Shan and Marley, I be on some Bridge shitYeahLike Jabari, I’m on some Bridge shitShooter live onKings live foreverYeahWe go through a lotAnd nobody wanna hear about what we go throughAnd that’s cool tooEvery man go through the same Mondays and FridaysSame sun, moon, and starsIt’s just how you stand like a man
