[Intro: Joe Budden]   I hear what nigga's sayin'.   Nigga's gonna' talk to me like...   Like when I come on the plane an' shit, Louie's on.   When I sit out in front of the muh'fuckin' plane wit' the daily news wit' my legs crossed an' shit.   Wanna' act like I ain't earn my seat, when I'm watchin' muh'fuckas walk to the back an' shit, when it's Coach.   You Pat Riley in that shit, nigga.      [Verse 1: Joe Budden]   Look here,   Look, look...   I get a ghetto gospel   Only right considerin' the ghetto was my hostile.   Memory is gone, but I'm recallin' all through highschool   Even at my lowest, I was sittin' on my high stool;   That's what bein' high do.   If I couldn't do shit, was always able ta' toke   They tol' me that a nigga die 'fore I was able ta' vote.   'Prolly 'cause me an' my constituents   An' all the shit we did   The MRI couldn't tell you what the issue is.   Wit' my treason came a cause that I believed in   Is it really wrong if a nigga got a reason?   At times I had ta' take doe   Nigga did whatever for a peso   Bein' from the hood'll be my scapegoat.   A "can it be", 'cause I wasn't born into a canopy   Maybe I was prone ta' fallin' in love wit' vanity.   Tell me shit'chu reap is the shit'chu sow   Tell God I'm better than the shit I show   I gotta grow, c'mon.      [Hook]      [Verse 2: Joe Budden]   Whoa...   Now look...   Now niggas say I floss too much   So... has he changed?   'Cause I don't think that thousand-dollar T cost too much.   All they should say is that he strong   Came out the fire unscathed, ye', I carried on   Lu Vuitton carry on.   ?? wit' my blessing's at a delay   Now ta' lace my chick in ?? is sorta' cliché.   Plane ain't gonn' never land, less it's in the Netherlands   Twenty on that goldface, Breitling wit' the leather band.   Ask for a better hand   I tried collidin' wit my problems, ye', I never ran   That'll make me less a man.   I ain't go from not havin' it ta' bein' arrogant   I dreamt, went grabbin' it, jus' bein' passionate.   Some niggas get complaints an' why...   Dude's is newborn birds, jus' afraid ta' fly.   If you're foot's on the breaks, can't ride.   Me, I spread my wings, inhale an' embrace that high!      [Hook]      [Verse 3: Joe Budden]   Give it away, give it away, give it away now [x3]   Look, look, look...   Part of me was gruesome   I ain't changed, I grew some   An' if I did change, I welcomed that shit to come.   Dudes that smoked trees wit' me   Dudes that used ta' be wit' me   They say I switched up on 'em an' did a three-sixty.   'Cause I don't burn it down   But to me it's commonsense -   You wann' see the otherside, gott' turn aroun'.   Show 'em your game face -   I tell 'em we was on the same track, but wasn't runnin' that same race (nigga).   Weighin' in the same space, but I ain't gonn' change pace   Some' won't let me slowdown, I can't explain fate.   So don't say I won't from broke ta' booshie   I'm far from far-end I jus' know what suits me, muh'fucka.      [Hook]