| Yeah, speak to the hand, I'm all your (?) | |
| Tired of livin' this life everyday it's a gamble | |
| Puttin' pieces together that don't even assemble | |
| Feelin' like somebody I don't like but I resemble | |
| I'm so sick up in here and it's time to make moves | |
| I try to procrastinate in everything I do | |
| My life is a sham I'm tryin' to just get through | |
| I'm movin' through the trenches, | |
| With my mike and my crew | |
| What I'm supposed to do I got to keep goin' | |
| Sure this happened for me, I'm not even knowin' | |
| The storm has passed, | |
| And yet the flowers still growin' | |
| Still makin' moves, right now shit is on | |
| I see a glimps of light that shines in my face | |
| I wanna send my heart, takes me to another place | |
| See right now, what I want I can achieve | |
| All I have to do is stick to myself and believe | |
| Where you at, uh-huh | |
| (To all my street niggers makin' money, make it happen ya'll) | |
| Where you at uh-huh | |
| (To all my lady's doin' your thing, do it you're the best girl) | |
| Where you at, uh-huh | |
| (To all my Daft Punk people, makin' the happy, keep it movin', let's do it ya'll) | |
| Where you at, uh-huh | |
| (Uh, everybody, everybody ya'll) | |
| Where you | |
| Don't make no sense (sense), the way we all are | |
| Niggers can't get a chick (chick) without a car | |
| Anybody aks me (me) I been the star (star) | |
| Always knew that one day (day) I would go far | |
| Some of these rap niggers they need a rain check (check) | |
| I don't understand how they got a mike, check check | |
| Get your head right, true, you look a wreck | |
| And in the mean time we gone get the pay check | |
| You know, no we ain't the ones that judge | |
| But uh, there's people out here | |
| Who are really puttin' it down, and that's real | |
| You know, slum village, can't even do our thing | |
| Make it happen yo (tss) like this | |
| Where you at uh-huh | |
| (To my niggers down for the struggle, keep it up baby) | |
| Where you at uh-huh | |
| (My nine to five niggers, street hustlers, roll-the-dice niggers) | |
| Where you at uh-huh | |
| (To all my chicks tryin' to get the paper, keep doin' that) | |
| Where you at uh-huh | |
| (See everybody makin' moves, don't stop keep it all) | |
| Lies, you fled Babylon of life and death on the tide of dawn | |
| From the drunk to stack at home | |
| To your destructive atom bombs, and they detonate | |
| You wonder why I write so graphic | |
| When here bullets shatter light poles into white snow fragments | |
| It's catastrophic that you picked up on it like an antenna object | |
| You either find your hustle with demand your profit | |
| Instead in the land of plottin' and schemin' | |
| 'Cause today's microscopic, | |
| Do bi-focal fiber-optics | |
| My friend's down with suit and ties inside of boxes | |
| Flip me out when you hit the ground like a fightin' ostritch | |
| But life is just a pair of dice droppin' | |
| In mid stumble | |
| A precious jewel you seclude when you in the struggle | |
| Where you at uh-huh | |
| Where you at uh-huh | |
| Where you at uh-huh | |
| Where you at uh-huh | |
| Where you | |
| Where you at uh-huh | |
| Where you at uh-huh | |
| Where you |
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