text: Nineteen-seventy something, nigga I dont sweat the date
  My moms is late so I had to plan my escape
  Out the skins, in this world of fly girls
  Tanqueray and Hennessy until I cold hurl
  Ten months in this gut, what the fuck
  I wish moms would hurry up so I could get buck
  Wild juvenile ripping mics and shit
  New York, New York, ready for the likes of this
  Then came the worst date, May 21st
  2:19, thats when my momma water burst
  No spouse in the house so she rode for self
  To the hospital, to see if she could get a little help
  Umbilical cords wrapped around my neck
  Im seeing my death and I aint even took my first step
  I made it out, Im bringing mad joy
  The doctor looked and said, Hes going to be a bad boy
  As we proceed to give you what you need
  Get live motherfuckers. Get live motherfuckers!!
  Now Im thirteen, smoking blunts, making cream
  On the drug scene, fuck a football team:
  Risking ruptured spleens by the age of sixteen
  Hearing the coach scream aint lifetime dream!
  I mean I want to blow up, stack my dough up
  So school I didnt show up, it fucked my flow up
  Mom said that I should grow up and check myself
  Before I wreck myself, disrespect myself
  Put the drugs on the shelf? Nah, couldnt see it
  Scarface, King of New York, I want to be it
  Rap was secondary, money was necessary
  Until I got incarcerated--kinda scary
  C74-Mark 8 set me straight
  Not able to move behind the great steel gate
  Time to contemplate, damn, where did I fail?
  All the money I stacked was all the money for bail