(Verse I)
Never gave me choices, nor gave me options, hearing voices just like Hailey Joel Osment, having visions like prophets/nobody ever gave me a handout or gave me critical advice or insight to steer me in the right route/I was all alone in my four-cornered room like Bushwick Bill a ghetto nigga in my aunt’s house/see a nigga needed paper, right now not later, I grew up like a motherfuckin’ screw up looking up to every hustler out doing it major/labels even turned him off, so called friends couldn’t cover no cost, industry niggas and record executives looked at my records as taking a loss/fuck it I kept on pushing, thought about my lifestyle living in Brooklyn, knowing I shouldn’t keep persisting, making it in music one in a trillion/bucket on the floor got a leak in the ceiling, tired of being broke tired of having that feeling/looking out the window raining dogs and kittens, gotta get my sister up outta that building/damn, that’s the way that it goes, empty ass fridge no food on the stove, tired of doing shows where nobody shows, out for the platinum not for the gold, took a detour on the yellow brick road, took a page out of Pyscho Drama and Bone’s flow so before I go, I’m from Brooklyn let’s let that be known…

(Hook x2)
Where you from, from, tell ‘em where you from/where you from, from, tell ‘em where you from/it don’t matter if you in or out of town you gon’ hold your city, hold your city, hold your city down…

(Verse II)
The dialogue and the epilogue of nigga coming out a city where the people are forgotten/the crack spot, melting pot, tree bears no fruit, every last apple here is rotten/watch it nobody ever really cares, losing their lives of the pettiest of stares, I can feel it in the air something ominous approaching overlooking detail when you shoulda been aware (the city’s scared)/everything is out of place, they’re slower to show love, they’re quicker to show hate/nobody can show face or stay in their own lane, or keep up their own weight or at their own pace/we moving in the Beemer cruzin’, Midwest ride Caddies, through backwoods of the hood of Kansas, Nebraska, Missouri and Michigan through to Cincinnati/see my city seems awkward, Departed like Martin Scorsese, movie credit scores is not Cleveland, Brooklyn land of the heartless/why the officers in uniform, so quick to release a whole clip, when a nigga pull a trigger, shoot a nigga, kill a nigga in broad daylight on the street on some bullshit/damn, that’s the way that it goes, this is for my niggas with the double-time flow, with the Midwest swang, with the choppas go bang and the Swisher burns sweet while you tippin’ on Vogues/all around the world niggas know me as Poe, BK to the fullest, for the love of the dough/and I’m on a mission to change the position of the critics who listen with an opinion of a nigga outta New York so…

(Hook x2)

(Verse III)
We want change like Barack’s campaign, champagne over flowing, nigga it’s a celebration/new Chuck D if you wanna stop me or hold me back then it’s gonna take a Nation of Millions, fuck your feelings/people outta work we ain’t got no jobs, what you gonna do nigga steal or starve/life full of woe’s like a young Black Rob, everybody here got a hustle on the side, all black strap and an all black ride/seat recline and the music’s so loud you can hear the Biggie anytime you drive by/ten toes and ten fingers in the game, follow no rules, created my own lane/ain’t no thang but a fried chicken wing, when I get up in the business it’ll never be the same/I woke up one New York minute after the entire industry declared the Mecca of hip-hop was finished/you gotta be kidding, they destroyed it, I gotta rebuild it, but it back on in position, New York still tippin’, so…