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lyrics "Jay Z - Where I'm From"

 
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Artist express:Jay-Z
Release year:1997

Uh-huh, je-je je-je-jeah
Ye-ye-yeah, ye-ye-yeah
How real is this, how real is this
Uh-huh huh, Inspect this here, check
Im from where the hammers rung, News cameras never come
You and your man houndin every verse in your rhyme
Where the grams is slung, niggas vanish every summer
Where 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 get straight bets
So I felt some more something and you nothing check
I from the other side with other guys dont walk to much
And girls in the projects wouldnt fuck us if we talked too much
So they ran up town and sought them dudes to trust
I dont know what the fuck they thought, those niggas is foul just like us
Im from where the beef is inevitable, Summertimes unforgettable
Boosters in abundance, buy a half-price sweater new
Your world was everything, So everything you said youd do
You did it, Couldnt talk about it if you aint lived it
I from where niggas pull your car, and argue all day about
Whos the best MCs, Biggie, Jay-Z, and Nas
Where the drugs czars evolve, and thugs always are
At each others throats for the love of foreign cars
Where cats catch cases, hoping the judge R and Rs
But most times find themselves locked up behind bars
Im from where they ball and breed rhyme stars
Im from Marcy son, just thought Id remind yall
Cough up a lung, where Im from, Marcy son, Aint nothing nice
Mentally been many places but Im Brooklyns own
Cough up a lung, where Im from, Marcy son, Aint nothing nice
Mentally been many places but Im Brooklyns own
Cough up a lung, where Im from, Marcy son, Aint nothing nice
Mentally been many places but Im Brooklyns own
Cough up a lung, where Im from, Marcy son, Aint nothing nice
Mentally been many places but Im Brooklyns own
Cough up a lung, where Im from, Marcy son, Aint nothing nice
Mentally been many places but Im Brooklyns own
Im from the place where the church is the flakiest
And niggas is praying to god so long that they Atheist
Where you cant put your vest away and say youll wear it tomorrow
Cause the day after well be saying, damn I was just with him yesterday
Im a block away from hell, not enough shots away from straight shells
An ounce away from a triple beam still using a hand-held weight scale
Your laughing, you know the place well
Where the Liqour Stores and the base well
And Government, fuck Government, niggas 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 eight-teen
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?
Well never know
One day I pray to you and said if I ever blow, Let em know
Mistakes aint exactly what takes place in the ghetto
Promise fulfilled, but still I feel my job aint done
Cough up a lung, where Im from, Marcy son, aint nothing nice
Cough up a lung, where Im from, Marcy son, Aint nothing nice
Mentally been many places but Im Brooklyns own
Cough up a lung, where Im from, Marcy son, Aint nothing nice
Mentally been many places but Im Brooklyns own
Cough up a lung, where Im from, Marcy son, Aint nothing nice
Mentally been many places but Im Brooklyns own
Cough up a lung, where Im from, Marcy son, Aint nothing nice
Mentally been many places but Im Brooklyns own
Im from where they cross-over and clap boards
Lost Jehovah in place of rap lords, listen
Im up the block, round 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
Niggas get lost for weeks in the streets, twisted off weed
And no matter the weather, niggas know how to draw heat
Whether your four-feet or Minute size, it always starts out with
Three dice and shoot the five
Niggas thought they douce was live, now hit em with trips
And I reached down for their money, pa forget about this
This time around its platinum, like the shit on my wrist
And this glock on my waist, yall cant do shit about this
Niggas will show you love, Thats how they fool thugs
Before you know it your lying in a pool of blood
Cough up a lung, where Im from, Marcy son, aint nothing nice
Mentally been many places but Im Brooklyns own
Cough up a lung, where Im from, Marcy son, aint nothing nice
Mentally been many places but Im Brooklyns own
Cough up a lung, where Im from, Marcy son, aint nothing nice
Mentally been many places but Im Brooklyns own
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