| The road to success is not straight, there’s a curve called failure
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| A loop called confusion, speed bumps called friends
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| And red light called enemies, caution signs called family
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| And flat tires called jacks but if you have a spare called determination
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| And an engine called perseverance, with insurance called faith
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| And the drive to make it, you’ll reach a place called success
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| Can you hear me? |
| Dat one yah a fi di ghetto youth dem
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| Yo, star this a murder, man, a ghetto youth fi life, yo
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| I cannot forget where I come from
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| No 'mount of money can’t change man, still blaze di skunk
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| But some leave di ghetto get rich and turn punk
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| But I won’t forget my roots 'cause I don’t worship money
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| That’s not what counts, kill or be killed
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| Somehow I have to buy mama house pon di hill
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| I’ve been through struggles and wars
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| I mon survive it with justa few scars
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| Nuff man dead some gone behind bars
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| So right now real ghetto yutes don’t fear police cars
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| Experience stage, it’s knowledge
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| Eye bloody up from di streets and college
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| But when di whole a we share one sausage
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| Serve a now and then mi haffi send back a package
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| Weh Cham seh
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| I cannot forget where I come from
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| No 'mount of money can’t change man, still blaze di skunk
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| But some leave di ghetto get rich and turn punk
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| But I won’t forget my roots 'cause I don’t worship money
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| That’s not what counts, kill or be killed
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| Somehow I have to buy mama house pon di hill
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| Some man mek it and a live betta life
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| And don’t recall di days when we walk wid knife
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| A simple argument bring strife
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| Some man a diss dem baby, modda fi dem Uptown wife
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| Dem a front but he a find out
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| See dem inna di club and flash cash all about
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| And post like thug when in fact dem a scout
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| Nuff a dem neva look back dem rich and sell out but
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| I cannot forget where I come from
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| No 'mount of money can’t change man, still blaze di skunk
|
| But some leave di ghetto get rich and turn punk
|
| But I won’t forget my roots 'cause I don’t worship money
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| That’s not what counts, kill or be killed
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| Somehow I have to buy mama house pon di hill
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| Yo, when I was small and growin' up
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| If we cook than fall is showin' up
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| Paul left town since Dennis blown up
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| Now him have Benz and nah memba him friend
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| But di odda day him get back on di old block
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| Broad daylight like round 12 o’clock
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| And come pon di corna wid dem likkle fake act
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| And from dem tun millionaire and neva give nuttin back, but
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| I cannot forget where I come from
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| No 'mount of money can’t change man, still blaze di skunk
|
| But some leave di ghetto get rich and turn punk
|
| But I won’t forget my roots 'cause I don’t worship money
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| That’s not what counts, kill or be killed
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| Somehow I have to buy mama house pon di hill |