Lucky me, dad was home, not all my homies (Yah) (Here we go) Uh huh (Uh huh)
Lucky me, dad was home, not all my homies had that Covid came, he wouldn´t live long, it did my dad bad Wish I could have my dad back Still cannot believe he´s gone Now he´s livin´ through the song The studio´s where I crash at A place to study the craft at Matter o´ fact, I learned it all Burnt the raw The studio rug is where all the ash is at Flashbacks not havin´ much, not havin´ that Had to make a way to get to where they say the cash is at The books would have - Math in the front, lyrics in the back
Didn´t have to be in class to show you I´m a class act Tryna mash that whole flow in case you still ain´t caught that I ain´t never caught a body, robbed a man and sold crack Highjacked, did a scam or owned a gat They do that where I grew up at Me I chose a different path, wrote rap In those times, I was on the rise, check the almanac The pen I´m usin´ quickly turned into a rap artefact I think you get the gist of where I´m gettin´ at with all of that When I try to leave it´s like it just keeps callin´ back (Preee) I don´t know what to call it if it ain´t a fact
And if you ain´t heard me, nigga, run it back (Yeah)
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