| Uh, and never changed my lane
|
| I came in the game, one shot away from fame
|
| Fame, fame, fame, fame, fame
|
| I pop up in my lane
|
| Watch how I do the same to the same knock
|
| So whatchu sayin? |
| It ain’t a game
|
| Big Ben tell the same time that the watch tell on my frame
|
| …Went from doin what it’s doin
|
| To movin units like an ancient ruin who’s influenced
|
| …The note was sent to me
|
| (Castles Made of Sand) fall in the sea eventually
|
| I’m on some hard to kick the winner route
|
| Everytime that I’m late, there’s more to pen about
|
| I mean write about, thinkin 'bout movin out
|
| You ain’t caught the kid live, then you losin out
|
| One thing I learn, you can’t rule 'em out
|
| Keep the fame, I take the subduer route
|
| Or Slick Rick the Ruler route
|
| Politics and bullshit, somethin I can do without
|
| I came in the game, one shot away from fame («Fame!»)
|
| Uh, and never changed my lane
|
| I came in the game, one shot away from fame
|
| Fame, fame, fame
|
| I came in the game, one shot away from fame («Fame!»)
|
| Uh, and never changed my lane
|
| I came in the game, one shot away from fame
|
| Fame, fame, fame, fame
|
| Fame, flush 'caine down the drain
|
| Laid down game, stayed out the cage
|
| Trey pounds that bang, Greyhounds are taken out of state
|
| Feds are stakin out at my estate
|
| Steakhouse we eat, couches is suede
|
| Hounds is house-trained, ounces is shaved
|
| Base trials is hanged, thousands are made
|
| Praise is downplayed, the powder is weighed (c'mon)
|
| Cowards is slayed, pals bought flowers to graves
|
| Pigs searches for houses to raid (whoa!)
|
| Clouded days, power’s just hours away
|
| I’m so close, why now would I wait? |
| (why?)
|
| The time is now and it’s ours to waste
|
| Victory sweet, devour the taste
|
| Full-length minks is down by the waist
|
| Jewels niggas receive is crowns for the ways
|
| Marc'
|
| I came in the game, one shot away from fame («Fame!»)
|
| Uh, and never changed my lane
|
| I came in the game, one shot away from fame
|
| Fame, fame, fame
|
| I came in the game, one shot away from fame («Fame!»)
|
| Uh, and never changed my lane
|
| I came in the game, one shot away from fame
|
| Fame, fame, fame, fame
|
| Ye-yeah, uh, yo.
|
| Enter the game, I was 14
|
| Little-ass nigga with a dream to be seen on the screen
|
| 40s' and mad weed, meth tabs and acid
|
| I carried my guns in school and skipped classes
|
| Fuckin girls backstage in the auditorium
|
| While you was hittin the books, I was hittin shorty up
|
| Lost in my own world, young-minded hoodlum
|
| Plottin on the fame, yeah I’mma make a name for myself
|
| And my team, Mobb Deep is the gang
|
| Fit’ta bang on ya head if you blockin the way
|
| To the light at the end of this black-ass tunnel
|
| Man I’m addicted to trouble, man I’m a whole 'nother level with drama
|
| Check the doppler, it’s gon' rain shanks
|
| Dark clouds follow me everyday.
|
| Man I could NEVER get enough of this celebrity power
|
| I could NEVER get enough for the fame
|
| I came in the game, one shot away from fame («Fame!»)
|
| Uh, and never changed my lane
|
| I came in the game, one shot away from fame
|
| Fame, fame, fame
|
| I came in the game, one shot away from fame («Fame!»)
|
| Uh, and never changed my lane
|
| I came in the game, one shot away from fame
|
| Fame, fame, fame, fame |