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