| So I’m saying, «What up? |
| What up? |
| Nigga, you made it»
|
| So I’m saying, «What up? |
| What up? |
| Nigga, you made it»
|
| So I’m saying, «What up? |
| What up? |
| Nigga, you made it»
|
| So I’m saying, «What up? |
| What up? |
| Nigga, I hate it»
|
| So I’m saying, «What up? |
| What up? |
| Nigga, I hate it»
|
| Frustrated and I’m riding down them back streets
|
| Making my conscience ask me
|
| «Will I survive to make it up out this hole in time?»
|
| Black boy fly, black boy fly
|
| Black, black boy fly, black boy fly
|
| I used to be jealous of Arron Afflalo
|
| I used to be jealous of Arron Afflalo
|
| He was the one to follow
|
| He was the only leader foreseeing brighter tomorrows
|
| He would live in the gym, we was living in sorrow
|
| Total envy of him, he made his dream become a reality
|
| Actually making it possible to swim
|
| His way up outta Compton with further more to accomplish
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| Graduate with honors, a sponsor of basketball scholars
|
| It’s 2004 and I’m watching him score thirty
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| Remember vividly how them victory points had hurt me
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| 'Cause every basket was a reaction or a reminder
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| That we was just moving backwards
|
| The bungalow where you find us
|
| The art of us ditching classes, heading nowhere fast
|
| Stick my head inside the study hall, he focused on math
|
| Determination ambition, plus dedication and wisdom
|
| Qualities he was given was the shit we didn’t have
|
| Dug inside of his book bag and Coach Palmer asked for his finals
|
| He had his back like a spinal, meanwhile
|
| We singing the same old song spinning the vinyl
|
| Eleven graders gone wrong
|
| He focused on the NBA, we focused on some Patron
|
| Now watch that black boy fly
|
| Black boy fly, watch that black boy fly
|
| Black boy fly, watch that black boy fly
|
| Black boy fly, watch that black boy fly
|
| Black boy
|
| I used to be jealous of Jayceon
|
| I used to be jealous of Jayceon Taylor when I was young
|
| Taylor made a career out of music from writing songs
|
| A Buick had driven past bumping him when I mowed the lawn
|
| Money laundering hustling, homies pondering up against
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| Schemes to make a million even if doing you harm
|
| War’s the case and just in case you wasn’t alarmed
|
| The city had fought with firearms and many had died before dawn
|
| It’s 2004 and I’m hearing the people roar
|
| For the name of The Game, they line in front of the store
|
| Swap meets, selling our mixtapes, I’m like, «Oh shit, wait»
|
| Don’t wanna be another nigga stuck regretting mistakes
|
| Mixed feelings was my opinion, I was defending my insecurities
|
| Chillin' my conscience next to a villain
|
| Compton made you believe success wasn’t real
|
| Be honest, none of us knew of a record deal
|
| So as I peel through these lottery tickets
|
| I see a Harley Davidson truck visit the same plaza we shopped
|
| A tall nigga hopped out with Jordans and a white tank top
|
| He was top of the rap game, we was the top of the block
|
| So watch that black boy fly
|
| Black boy fly, watch that black boy fly
|
| Black boy fly, watch that black boy fly
|
| Black boy fly, watch that black boy fly
|
| Black boy
|
| My mama didn’t raise me up to be jealous-hearted
|
| Like most of the winners call it
|
| Regardless of where you stay, hold your head and continue marching
|
| That’s what she said, but in my head I wanted to be like Jordan
|
| Award touring the country with money from mic recording
|
| The only way out the ghetto, you know the stereotype
|
| Shooting hoops or live on the stereo like Top 40
|
| And shortly, I got discouraged
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| Like every time I walked to the corner, had them guns bursting
|
| Nigga, I was rehearsing in repetition the phrase
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| That only one in a million will ever see better days
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| Especially when the crime waves was bigger than tsunamis
|
| Break your boogie boards to pieces, you just a typical homie
|
| All these niggas facetious and they all standing beside me
|
| They all’ll buy me a chopper if any one of you try me
|
| What am I to do when every neighborhood is an obstacle?
|
| When two niggas making it out had never sounded logical?
|
| Three niggas making it out? |
| That’s mission impossible
|
| So I never believed the type of performance that I could do
|
| I wasn’t jealous cause of the talents they got
|
| I was terrified they’d be the last black boys to fly out of Compton
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| Thank God
|
| (Black boy fly, watch that black boy fly) |