| And the Grammy goes to
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| Open up that envelope
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| No, not those envelopes
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| My envelopes got a bag in 'em
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| J.U.S.T.I.C.E League
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| I don’t need your awards, that’s not what I look towards
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| I don’t want a reward for any song I record
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| I ain’t gotta look back to know that I’m movin' forward
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| I ain’t tryna compete, buy things that I can’t afford
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| I’m just doin' me, rhyming beautifully like the bluest sea
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| I mean, musically I’m like truancy
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| You gon' learn today there’s no schoolin' me
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| All my rap classmates knew not to fool with me
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| Check my rap sheet, two or three eulogies
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| Lock me up, lose the key for everything I do to beats
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| For those who wouldn’t sign me, I ain’t losin' sleep
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| I put the past behind me like we drew up a sweep
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| Came up rough, I know what to do with defeats
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| I turn all of those to motivational musical speech
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| Oh, and by the way, guess what I’m doin' to eat?
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| Yup, rappin', who cares about the snappin'
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| Of the pictures and the carpets and the fake hands clappin'
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| And the «should've been me’s» in all the afterparties acting
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| Like you having a good time, but you guzzling down 'yac and
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| Tryna be accepted by people who tryna do the same
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| I’m just tryna hit the booth with flames
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| Plus I suck at being corny so I don’t play them music games
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| All the politics is stupid lame
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| If you ain’t Billy Dance then I don’t cosign the shit y’all do for fame
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| A lot of y’all don’t know who I’m talkin' about
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| 'Cause you ain’t from where they’ll mop you up when you walk out the house
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| We have nothing in common 'cept our love for rhyming
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| No nominee but y’all know what category I’m in
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| I don’t think any rapper could do me any harm
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| With this word designing, like a lineman, I defend my arm
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| But if you wanna step, then bring it on
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| And catch this hook, not the type that make you sing along
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| I may not ever win a Grammy
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| But I’m takin' care of me and my family, and that’s a win to me
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| (Okay, let me open this up
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| And the rap album of the year goes to)
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| I may not ever win a Grammy
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| But I’m takin' care of me and my family, and that’s a win to me
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| (Make some noise for 'em, woo
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| Alright, yeah)
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| How so? |
| I grew up in a single parent household
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| Pick up the house phone, it’s no dial tone
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| When the cable wasn’t out though
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| I would watch Tom and Jerry on the floor near a mouse hole
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| Intro to my life, but the outro
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| Much different, see them credits rolling down slow?
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| I’d like to thank God, I owe this to you
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| Thank Dennis for introducing me to the booth
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| I escaped holding nines in the projects
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| Now I’m an artist working on my ninth project
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| Somebody tell 9th Wonder I’m the object
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| Of rap discussion, why I ain’t get the Grammy nod yet?
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| Lot of politicking and some bottom kissing
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| I ain’t got the time, I’m renovating my mama kitchen
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| Did her bathroom since we ain’t have a pot to piss in
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| No more lobby pitching, this is honest living
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| Just left the hospital, seeing a fan that was in a car collision
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| And met another one with a heart condition
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| We had a lot of laughs, keepin' optimistic
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| Before I left, we took pics, I told the doctors, «Get in»
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| This real world, not a 'Gram post
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| Life turned into the story that my hands wrote
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| Man, I’m 'bout to world tour for the third time
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| All because of how crazy I make these words rhyme
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| Sold out shows, they cheering for me
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| I can’t believe that everyone here is for me
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| Last stop Moscow, minus twenty degrees
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| I’ma fly in from the snow and land on a beach
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| Relax in some water that’s clear as can be
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| I went from airing beef to airing these beats
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| If there ever was a day they was sharing a seat
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| I’m sure I wouldn’t have a problem preparing a speech
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| I may not ever win a Grammy
|
| But I’m takin' care of me and my family, and that’s a win to me
|
| (Okay, let me open this up
|
| And the rap album of the year goes to)
|
| I may not ever win a Grammy
|
| But I’m takin' care of me and my family, and that’s a win to me
|
| (Make some noise for 'em, woo
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| Alright, yeah) |