I came up from the bottom
When you're on the ground
Just waiting for the break
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Three, four, five bills
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I just wanted peace
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I could only picture them
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And I think of my brothers gone
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Arab head in the chopper
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Fatou, Miklod in the ghetto
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There's metal, there's concrete
All these little brothers
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Yeah, I keep f*cking up
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At night, I keep doubting
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I hear them whisper about me
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And I roll through the city
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I'm back on my land
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And recounted the losses
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Maybe it's less sh*t
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Yeah, I keep f*cking up
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At night, I keep doubting
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I hear them whisper about me