August fifth, twenty-fifteen Ikáy it just ah record now Look yah now Big up di River Aye, big up again dawg? Big up yuh self Big up Ikáy Deal wid it nuh man cause yuh done know Alright, mi ah seh big up G pon di endz yuh zeet Yeah Real, real shotta ting yuh zeet, Chappy Yeah Know mi a seh yuh zeet Yeah Taliban I just turn twenty-five Roll a few blunts, burn twenty-five Been in em streets, watch many die Papi got em bricks, pitch me bout twenty-five I'm coming with da heat, I made it out da streets when I was twenty-five Got a Queen in my sheets, she’s fiending for me and she’s just twenty-five Pac died when he was twenty-five I still ride with my clip, hit you wit twenty-five Where I'm from, we don’t live to see twenty-five Tears in ya mama’s eyes You wanna live or die Word up Uh When life gets hard who do I call All my friends wanna see me fall Fuck dem all Dem new rappers excrement, I flushed dem all I did my estimate, I could touch dem all Twenty grand in my pocket when I touch da mall You never love me, you just love how I ball Reason I don’t fuck with y’all This rap game took me high, I could touch da stars Never been a Diddy fan, that’s the truth, no fucks involved Been on my grind for twenty-five years Been through so much, my heart so cold that I can’t shed tears My dawg got killed, I didn’t even care No anger, no revenge, no pouring out beers And I don’t wanna talk about it Seen my dead body in da streets, white chalk around it How can I love a chick when ten niggaz done toss around it Get ya ass from round me Lord knows, my life is like a cycle It’s hard to ride through When nobody likes you That’s why I roll like Christ do With twelve disciples, two Glocks, four Barettas, six loaded rifles Word to da homies Mama told me, son keep ya head up Life’s so hard and I'm fed up If we fall we gotta get up But da system won’t let us And I'm tired of seeing blacks killing other blacks For conflict artifacts Malcolm X marched to war, never came marching back Revolutionary Young boys of the world so untrue, it’s scary They’d sell you out for juice with berries Reason why New York been lost, niggaz like Bada$$ that spit da fire You don’t hear him on nine-seven, Funkmaster Flex well equipped with fire Saying lil homie, ya shits is fire This rap game’s a bitch, and that bitch’s a liar Shhh, listen to what my words say Jamaica is my birth place Never had a birthday Niggaz ain’t shit in da first place August fifth my worst day Uh Twenty-five years Been on my grind for twenty-five years Losing my mind for twenty-five years Twenty-five years nigga Searching for peace for twenty-five years All I found was grief for twenty-five years Twenty-five years nigga Uh, twenty-five years nigga I'm still here nigga Twenty-five years, uh You hear my emotions in a verse While ya people laying potent in a hearse Just blessed wit this curse Everyday it’s getting worse Life’s a jinx or a blessing Everybody’s stressing Material obsession, leading cause of teenage depression Take heed to these lessons Bring da weed to my section Rolling blunts to perfection I gotta represent, every block, every gutter, every trench Posture of a G, speech so eloquent Ain’t no denying Káy so cold My war stories stays untold Who’s gonna save my soul From these guns that I buss, money that I fold For twenty-five years nigga Mad ting Still deh yah enuh Just life So di ting set Been through a lot of shit Yuh know Seen a lot Badman Certain tings, sorta, enuh, sorta left yuh traumatize But, we understand di game Street life Just life still Tomorrow is another day Yuh zeet, another way Hehe, straight up A mawd ting still Just a gwaan represent fi di block Yuh know Gwaan hold it down Gwaan fight di fight Mawd ting