Jay-Z - Where I'm From (Documentary) | Текст песни

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• Jay-Z
• Where I'm From (Documentary)

I'm from where the hammer's rung, New's cameras never come
You and your man's hung in 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 don't walk to much
And girls in the projects wouldn't fuck us if we talked too much
So they ran up Tompkins and sought them dudes to trust
I don't know what the fuck they thought, those niggas is foul just like us
I'm from where the beef is inevitable, Summertime's unforgetable
Boosters in abundance, buy a half-price sweater new
Your world was everything, So everything you said you'd do
You did it, Couldn't talk about it if you ain't lived it
I from where niggas pull your car, and argue all day about
Who's the best MC's, Biggie, Jay-Z, and Nas
Where the drugs czars evolve, and thugs always are
At each other's throats for the love of foreign cars
Where cats catch cases, hoping the judge R and R's
But most times find themselves locked up behind bars
I'm from where they ball and breed rhyme stars
I'm from Brooklyn, just thought I'd remind y'all

Turn my music high, high, high, high-er
\"You don't know.. what you're doing, doing, doing, doing..\"
Sure I do..

I'm from the streets where the
hood could swallow a man, bullets'll follow a man
There's so much coke that you could run the slalom
And cops comb the shit top to bottom
They say that we are prone to violence, but it's home sweet home
Where personalities crash and chrome meets chrome
The coke prices up and down like it's Wall Street homes
But this is worse than the Dow Jones your brains are now blown
all over that brown Brougham, one slip you are now gone
Welcome to hell where you are welcome to sell
But when them shells come you better return 'em
All scars we earn 'em, all cars we learn 'em like the back of our hand
We watch for cops hoppin out the back of van
Wear a G on my chest, I don't need that for damn
This ain't a sewn outfit homes, homes is about it
Was clappin them flamers before I became famous
For playin me y'all shall forever remain nameless
I am Hov'

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