Where I'm From - Joe Budden

They say we not New York, but dudes get stabbed

Get shot like New York, niggas get robbed

Get got like New York, but they don’t make the news

'Cause it’s not New York

Hope you heard me, boy, look, I’m from Jersey, boy

Where it’s still half off that Hershey, boy

I was driving, shotgun was Ike when that faggot on the bike

Rode by and tried to murk me boy

But chill, here’s the head crack, I’m an O.G., I don’t wet that

If you know me then you know it’s get back, you nah mean?

The nah mean is tools gon' flare

In a society if you nobody then actually who’s gonna care?

They won’t call your next of kin, I’ll make your family aware

And the whole hood is dipped up so having sanity’s rare

I’m from where embalming fluid ain’t stop yet and city hall’s primary project

Is knocking down the projects, they ain’t finished that yet

See, I’m from carjack central, niggas’ll go in your ride

While you pick up the Jersey Journal, «Damn, so and so died»

I’m from where the dope game is bad, so every hustler can’t hustle

Tryna hustle them a rapper slash muscle them a rapper

They can find them a young nigga with a few bars to say

'Cause nigga, rap’s the new coke, wet, weed, and yay

I’m from where Champ had it locked 'til dude had him shot

For everybody to see and everybody was relieved

I’m from where the blocks is dark, so walk the turf with ya gun cocked

And the hospitals’ll fuck you up worse than a gunshot

From where screws is loose, gunpoint dudes strip nude

And that ain’t even half of New Jeruve, nigga

Uh oh, uh oh!

Stack Bundles!

Riot Squad!

DJ Envy!

Listen

From the last stop on the A train, where the youngin let his thang bang

We shoulda left the two cops, but they steady left the lane

Where the skies is gray 'cause no stars around, Father MC was the last star

around

Home of the niggas’ll jack Latifah, left her in the street

40 niggas caught boom for the 41st side piece

Where Edgeman, Raw P, and Redford rawed cap

So get your shit yacked, there’s no gettin' it back (Nah)

I’m from where bitch niggas go to jail and turn thug, and… (What else?)

Crip niggas go to jail and turn Blood, and (What else?)

Niggas come home, flip a lil' weed

End up with barbershops and music stores with CD’s

From where niggas on 17th was gettin' it and went on T (What happened?

), and they own workers left them uncomfortably

From where they argue 'bout whose fuckin' whose broad, and who’s drivin' what

cars

And niggas hatin' like he got that from insurance jobs

Where old heads was gettin' it, but kept gettin' robbed

So they wanted out the game and converted to God

Where niggas play the corners 'til they pecks is done

And out-of-towners come to blam blam the cannons and run

From the other side where Queen’s niggas don’t come through much (Nah)

The record exec’s wouldn’t sign us, said we’d done too much

So they ran over to Brooklyn and thought them dudes was to trust

I don’t know what the fuck they thought, them niggas look foul just like us

From where the streets get the best of you (Bruh), the beef’s inevitable (Bruh)

When you come through half price, animal new

From where the soldiers fall and thugs we are all

I’m from Far Rock, son, just thought I’d remind y’all

The sixth borough, shit’s thorough, Far Rock, son, ain’t nothin' nice (nothin',

nothin'…)

The sixth borough, shit’s thorough, Far Rock, son, ain’t nothin' nice (nothin',

nothin', nothin'…)