Текст песни
I'm from where the hammers rung, news cameras never come,
You and your man hung in every verse in your rhyme,
Where the grams is slung, n**gas vanish every summer,
When the blue vans would come, we throw the work in the can and run,
Where the plans was to get funds and skate off the set,
To achieve this goal quicker, sold all my weight wet,
Faced with immeasurable odds, still I gave straight bets,
So I felt I'm owed something and you nothing, check!
I'm from the other side with other guys don't walk too much,
And girls in the projects wouldn't fuck us if we talked too much,
So they ran up to Tompkins and sought them dudes to trust,
I don't know what the fuck they thought, those n**gas is foul just like us.
I'm from where the beef is inevitable, summertime's unforgettable,
Boosters in abundance, buy a half-price sweater new,
Your word was everything, so everything you said you'd do,
You did it, couldn't talk about it if you ain't live it.
I'm from where n**gas pull your card, and argue all day about
Who's the best MCs, Biggie, Jay-Z and Nas?
Where the drugs czars evolve, and thugs are at odds,
At each other's throats for the love of foreign cars.
Where cats catch cases, hoping the judge R-and-R's,
But most times find themselves locked up behind bars,
I'm from where they ball and breed rhyme stars,
I'm from Marcy, son, just thought I'd remind y'all.
[Chorus:]
Cough up a lung, where I'm from, Marcy, son, ain't nothing nice,
Mentally been many places but I'm Brooklyn's own.
[Verse 2:]
I'm from the place where the church is the flakiest,
And n**gas been praying to God so long that they atheist,
Where you can't put your vest away and say you'll wear it tomorrow
'Cause the day after we'll be saying, "Damn, I was just with him yesterday!"
I'm a block away from hell, not enough shots away from stray shells,
An ounce away from a triple beam, still using a hand-held weight scale,
You're laughing, you know the place well,
Where the liquor stores and the base dwell,
And government, fuck government, n**gas politic themselves.
Where we call the cops the A-Team
Cause they hop out of vans and spray things,
And life expectancy so low we making out wills at eighteen,
Where how you get rid of guys who step out of line, your rep solidifies,
So tell me when I rap, you think I give a fuck who criticize?
If the shit is lies, god strike me,
And I got a question,
Are you forgiving guys who live just like me?
We'll never know,
One day I prayed to you and said if I ever blow, I'd let 'em know
Mistakes and exactly what takes place in the ghetto,
Promise fulfilled, still I feel my job ain't done.
[Chorus:]
Cough up a lung, where I'm from, Marcy, son, ain't nothing nice,
Mentally been many places but I'm Brooklyn's own.
[Verse 3:]
Check, I'm from where they cross over and clap boards,
Lost Jehovah in place of rap lords, listen.
I'm up the block, around the corner and down the street,
From where the pimps, prostitutes and the drug lords meet,
We make a million off of beats, cause our stories is deep,
And fuck tomorrow, as long as the night before was sweet,
N**gas get lost for weeks in the streets, twisted off leak,
And no matter the weather, n**gas know how to draw heat,
Whether you're four-feet or Manute size, it always starts out with
Three dice and shoot the five
N**gas thought they deuce was live, now I hit 'em with trips
And I reached down for their money, pa, forget about this,
This time around it's platinum, like the shit on my wrist,
And this Glock on my waist, y'all can't do shit about this,
N**gas'll show you love, that's how they fool thugs,
Before you know it, you're lying in a pool of blood.
[Chorus:]
Cough up a lung, where I'm from, Marcy, son, ain't nothing nice,
Mentally been many places but I'm Brooklyn's own.
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