| Song | Part Of The Plan - Album Version (Explicit) |
| Artist | Swizz Beatz |
| Album | One Man Band Man |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| Tryin’ hard to speak and | |
| Fightin’ with my weak hand | |
| Driven to distraction | |
| So part of the plan | |
| When somethin’ is broken | |
| And you try to fix it | |
| Tryin’ to repair it | |
| Anyway you can | |
| The time was the late 80's | |
| Every block had a stray dog with rabies | |
| Fiends threw away their crack babies | |
| Arguin’ with my brother to see who pick the mouse up | |
| Walk by, open up the oven door to heat the house up | |
| Everyday, police would swarm | |
| Comin’ home from school, your brains on your uniform | |
| I wish I could fly away on a unicorn | |
| I'm from the ghetto and everyday a human’s born | |
| So who cares if | |
| I'm stretched out on the scene? | |
| Surrounded by homicide forensic team | |
| Yellow tape, haters glad that | |
| I'm deadPedestrians walkin’ by and they just shakin’ their heads saying | |
| Tryin’ hard to speak and | |
| Fightin’ with my weak hand | |
| Driven to distraction | |
| So part of the plan | |
| When somethin’ is broken | |
| And you try to fix it | |
| Tryin’ to repair it | |
| Anyway you can | |
| What's hot, what's not, what should, what shouldn't be | |
| Come on y'all who to say what couldn't be? | |
| Look at me, | |
| I'm nicest not the iciest | |
| Sometimes | |
| I wake up and ask | |
| God, who life this is? | |
| I look at these eyes, | |
| I'm only in this body | |
| If you only could understand the vision that | |
| I carryWhite actors will be like | |
| Puff Daddy when he interned | |
| Men play with fire, men get burned | |
| To talk about this, the only thing | |
| I earnedI can rap, | |
| I’m talkin’ about killin’ you like this | |
| Or puttin’ a hole in your head the size of that | |
| But that would be cheatin’ myself and | |
| I can't do that, man | |
| Tryin’ hard to speak and | |
| Fightin’ with my weak hand | |
| Driven to distraction | |
| So part of the plan | |
| When somethin’ is broken | |
| And you try to fix it | |
| Tryin’ to repair it | |
| Anyway you can | |
| Man, it all ends up on a back street | |
| In abandoned buildings where the crack heads meet | |
| All you hear is and lighters flicking | |
| Busy smoking, baby dead, rat poison in the kitchen | |
| They so high, walkin’ by, thinkin’ she asleep | |
| Don't even put her in the crib, just cover her with a sheet | |
| This is me in the building 17 with the bundles and a gun up on me | |
| And I shoot any nigga run up on me | |
| And for 2 years my momma lookin’ for me | |
| Cryin’, runnin’ up on other kids thinkin’ it's me | |
| By now I ain’t got no heart | |
| Nigga, I'm a gang member, suited up and | |
| I’m ready to start | |
| Tryin’ hard to speak and | |
| Fightin’ with my weak hand | |
| Driven to distraction | |
| So part of the plan | |
| When somethin’ is broken | |
| And you try to fix it | |
| Tryin’ to repair it | |
| Anyway you can |
| Tryin' hard to speak and | |
| Fightin' with my weak hand | |
| Driven to distraction | |
| So part of the plan | |
| When somethin' is broken | |
| And you try to fix it | |
| Tryin' to repair it | |
| Anyway you can | |
| The time was the late 80' s | |
| Every block had a stray dog with rabies | |
| Fiends threw away their crack babies | |
| Arguin' with my brother to see who pick the mouse up | |
| Walk by, open up the oven door to heat the house up | |
| Everyday, police would swarm | |
| Comin' home from school, your brains on your uniform | |
| I wish I could fly away on a unicorn | |
| I' m from the ghetto and everyday a human' s born | |
| So who cares if | |
| I' m stretched out on the scene? | |
| Surrounded by homicide forensic team | |
| Yellow tape, haters glad that | |
| I' m deadPedestrians walkin' by and they just shakin' their heads saying | |
| Tryin' hard to speak and | |
| Fightin' with my weak hand | |
| Driven to distraction | |
| So part of the plan | |
| When somethin' is broken | |
| And you try to fix it | |
| Tryin' to repair it | |
| Anyway you can | |
| What' s hot, what' s not, what should, what shouldn' t be | |
| Come on y' all who to say what couldn' t be? | |
| Look at me, | |
| I' m nicest not the iciest | |
| Sometimes | |
| I wake up and ask | |
| God, who life this is? | |
| I look at these eyes, | |
| I' m only in this body | |
| If you only could understand the vision that | |
| I carryWhite actors will be like | |
| Puff Daddy when he interned | |
| Men play with fire, men get burned | |
| To talk about this, the only thing | |
| I earnedI can rap, | |
| I' m talkin' about killin' you like this | |
| Or puttin' a hole in your head the size of that | |
| But that would be cheatin' myself and | |
| I can' t do that, man | |
| Tryin' hard to speak and | |
| Fightin' with my weak hand | |
| Driven to distraction | |
| So part of the plan | |
| When somethin' is broken | |
| And you try to fix it | |
| Tryin' to repair it | |
| Anyway you can | |
| Man, it all ends up on a back street | |
| In abandoned buildings where the crack heads meet | |
| All you hear is and lighters flicking | |
| Busy smoking, baby dead, rat poison in the kitchen | |
| They so high, walkin' by, thinkin' she asleep | |
| Don' t even put her in the crib, just cover her with a sheet | |
| This is me in the building 17 with the bundles and a gun up on me | |
| And I shoot any nigga run up on me | |
| And for 2 years my momma lookin' for me | |
| Cryin', runnin' up on other kids thinkin' it' s me | |
| By now I ain' t got no heart | |
| Nigga, I' m a gang member, suited up and | |
| I' m ready to start | |
| Tryin' hard to speak and | |
| Fightin' with my weak hand | |
| Driven to distraction | |
| So part of the plan | |
| When somethin' is broken | |
| And you try to fix it | |
| Tryin' to repair it | |
| Anyway you can |
| Tryin' hard to speak and | |
| Fightin' with my weak hand | |
| Driven to distraction | |
| So part of the plan | |
| When somethin' is broken | |
| And you try to fix it | |
| Tryin' to repair it | |
| Anyway you can | |
| The time was the late 80' s | |
| Every block had a stray dog with rabies | |
| Fiends threw away their crack babies | |
| Arguin' with my brother to see who pick the mouse up | |
| Walk by, open up the oven door to heat the house up | |
| Everyday, police would swarm | |
| Comin' home from school, your brains on your uniform | |
| I wish I could fly away on a unicorn | |
| I' m from the ghetto and everyday a human' s born | |
| So who cares if | |
| I' m stretched out on the scene? | |
| Surrounded by homicide forensic team | |
| Yellow tape, haters glad that | |
| I' m deadPedestrians walkin' by and they just shakin' their heads saying | |
| Tryin' hard to speak and | |
| Fightin' with my weak hand | |
| Driven to distraction | |
| So part of the plan | |
| When somethin' is broken | |
| And you try to fix it | |
| Tryin' to repair it | |
| Anyway you can | |
| What' s hot, what' s not, what should, what shouldn' t be | |
| Come on y' all who to say what couldn' t be? | |
| Look at me, | |
| I' m nicest not the iciest | |
| Sometimes | |
| I wake up and ask | |
| God, who life this is? | |
| I look at these eyes, | |
| I' m only in this body | |
| If you only could understand the vision that | |
| I carryWhite actors will be like | |
| Puff Daddy when he interned | |
| Men play with fire, men get burned | |
| To talk about this, the only thing | |
| I earnedI can rap, | |
| I' m talkin' about killin' you like this | |
| Or puttin' a hole in your head the size of that | |
| But that would be cheatin' myself and | |
| I can' t do that, man | |
| Tryin' hard to speak and | |
| Fightin' with my weak hand | |
| Driven to distraction | |
| So part of the plan | |
| When somethin' is broken | |
| And you try to fix it | |
| Tryin' to repair it | |
| Anyway you can | |
| Man, it all ends up on a back street | |
| In abandoned buildings where the crack heads meet | |
| All you hear is and lighters flicking | |
| Busy smoking, baby dead, rat poison in the kitchen | |
| They so high, walkin' by, thinkin' she asleep | |
| Don' t even put her in the crib, just cover her with a sheet | |
| This is me in the building 17 with the bundles and a gun up on me | |
| And I shoot any nigga run up on me | |
| And for 2 years my momma lookin' for me | |
| Cryin', runnin' up on other kids thinkin' it' s me | |
| By now I ain' t got no heart | |
| Nigga, I' m a gang member, suited up and | |
| I' m ready to start | |
| Tryin' hard to speak and | |
| Fightin' with my weak hand | |
| Driven to distraction | |
| So part of the plan | |
| When somethin' is broken | |
| And you try to fix it | |
| Tryin' to repair it | |
| Anyway you can |