| For real, e’rybody’s a star, e’rybody shine
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| Follow your heart and not mankind
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| For real, for real, I’m 'bout to do my thing to shine
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| Said everybody shine, c’mon"
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| It’s not luck that I’m sittin' here spittin' for y’all
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| Preeld in by Allah that I’m hittin' for y’all
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| Growin' up on the New York concrete lookin'
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| Like a little snotty dish of prodigy cookin'
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| They called me Little Man all in the boulevard
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| When I was young, my family used to party hard
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| Gangs of uncatched kids turned to blood ketchup
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| The illest niggas was Richard Pryor and Ronnie Bump
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| Skinned knees from being bad-ass little boys
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| Police sirens and baby screams was average noise
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| Hip-Hop came, the ghetto copped the soundtrack
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| Street poetry to tracks, could you beat that?
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| Malik Taylor introduced it to me
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| He said, «Forget Benny Hill, nigga, let’s MC»
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| Twelve years old, rhymin' in the backroom
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| For echoes, we used to rhyme in the bathroom
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| Run-D.M.C., Slick Rick and Doug E. Fresh
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| The Juice Crew rule but who’s this nigga KRS?
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| Reference points, too many to wish for
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| Battlin' niggas on trains, I stay raw
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| Never let my dream die
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| I was happy and high goin' to Alee’s and Bed-Stuy
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| We made our first demo tape
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| Excited like a mawfucka, lookin' for our first break
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| I know
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| You can do it
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| («Listen to the story I tell yo)
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| Be abidin', chy’all
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| I know
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| («Don't let 'em hate to front you»)
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| You can see it
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| («Get up and follow me and flow again, use my life as an example»)
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| Do it, and see it, and be nobody else
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| Jungle Brothers, De La, they gave me little light
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| In Top, Three Feet, Buddy, that was aight
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| One year later, the Tribe was initiated
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| Bonita came, it was wild how she dominated
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| Can I kick it parled us to our next phase
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| So drunk in those days, I truly was amazed
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| How I got up enough to make tunes
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| People cheered me, it was Foreign, then came Low End Theory
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| People quickly recognized who we are
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| Phife is ill and Busta is a superstar
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| Tours with P.E., Naughty, and the Geto Boys
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| Arsenio Hall, women then were evil toys
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| Whisperin' hate inside my brother’s virgin ears
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| Tryin to hurt but, yo, we stood amongst the tears
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| Midnight was even tighter, now look at us
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| Condoms is on the rida stored on the bus
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| It got funky right here, I had to save my life
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| In the snow after the show, I had a fight wit' Phife
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| Moves to a land to get away but back home
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| Job was urkin' us, it sent me through a danger zone
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| The good thing, I found Allah in the process
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| An angel appeared wit' sneaky ways and gave me stress
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| Now what am I to do?
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| My album’s platinum but I’m still feelin' blue, c’mon
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| Yeah, yeah
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| Yeah, yeah
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| («You can do it»)
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| Yeah, yeah
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| Yeah, yeah
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| Yeah
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| («I know»)
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| Yeah, yeah
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| («You can see it»)
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| Yeah, yeah
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| Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
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| Makin' my way, the wilderness has grown fierce
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| Redemption and my heart, both of them was pierced
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| Crashed my truck, didn’t think I’d make it out
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| Had a hit on my life, he thought I screwed his wife
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| Plus my house burned down, me and Ands was in it
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| My crew was tired and I knew we had to end it
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| But through all of this, I’m still here
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| Take notes and let hope floats
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| I’m still here, take note and let hope float
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| I’m still here, take notes and let hope float
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| You can do the same shit that I’m doin'
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| You can do the same thing that I’m doin', uh-huh
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| I’m still here, take note, let it, uh-hah
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| Still here, take notes and let it float, ha-ha
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| Still here, take and let it
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| You can do the same thing I’m doin', thing that I’m doin'
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| Still here, take and let it, uh-hah
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| Still here, take notes, let it float, c’mon
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| Still here, take notes, let it float, c’mon
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| Do the same thing that I’m doin' if ya pay attention
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| I know
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| You can see it
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| Do it, and see it, and be nobody else |