Look at me, what you see?
Is it him or me? Criticís is dissing me hard was this meant to be?
The feeling Iím feeling is real, and itís stealing, the meaning to stay in this field
Many men of tried it, few have ever made it
Most taken out fighting sin temptations
I separate my English, like the French
When I fall, get down repent, what donít ye get?
Rocking me constantly, being somebody, the pressures is calling me
God and society
If do I could fall, if I donít I will crawl.
Itís so hard having all, isnít this what I want
I stepped out, fell down, Got up, what now
Put yourself in my shoes, with my crew,
I lose take a ride right through my mind, birds eye view
I stopped caring what yall think a year ago, here we go, radio, video,
Stereo, types cause Iím white, the harder I write, the more lies on my life
Ya tell it in spite
Right to my face, or stab me in the back
Manic depressive no, but I might just snap
This positionís warn out, I want out
Itís what I wanted not what I thought
It was when I was poor now Iím cornered
Knowing now itís in the past with the wack raps
Iím signing 99 hundred 9 lines of autographs
Most significant feeling like Iím infinite
Critics used to kick my backside now they kissing it
What a switch up, thought Iíd a give up
Ridiculous, how I ended up, so what
I ainít so different, yeah Iím a Christian
Living still winning you got counterfeit religion
I say it in my lines in ya face up to rise
You hating on something that you ainít even tried