From the bottom of the ash I rose To the top I go Where I'm from its cold But I don't need this coat, keep my sleeves rolled
Got my city's area code on my shoulder, 216 forever in my soul Swear to God every single night its gets colder No heat so we all around that stove like "Fuck this broke shit", petty ass hustlin, couldn't even sell one zone Slim still workin at the store and the only time We ever get to eat is when he brings something home Everydays dark here, prayin for a rainbow to lead us to that pot of gold And exchange those nights on a concrete floor for a bottle of Rose to pop that bitch off like we suppose to Never gave a fuck if we went gold, I just wanna be able to say that I made it Cause' real EST mufuckas don't fold, Real EST mufuckas dont break up Eal family grows old, Real EST mufuckas representing for the city where they came even when they gone And F*** this throne, ain't no kings, No pretty princess, ain't no queen No fairy tale endings on the Eastside, just these broken homes and those screams Broken bones underneath these jeans, Broken bricks cover up my streets Fiends outside trying to get their fix, while my first born in here trying to get sleep Muthafuck this rap shit, try burying your boy 6 feet let me show u bout real Try telling me that u can't make it up out the city 26 dollars to multi-mill's Face inside of the XXL, then try coming back to the Eastside still Well bitch I did, and its still the kid, labeled a Bad Boy before this deal What up Slim, Dub, Xplo, Dre, Swirv, Ash, my boy BK And everybody from the beginning that bled with me knowin I would be here one day So as I roll through all the hoods that raised me, Looking at the house of pain I'ma runaway from the ones that pay me hopin I'll stay the same Can't you save me? Can't you save me? Can't you save me? Can't you save me?
Writer(s): SANDERS MATTHEW CHARLES, BAKER RICHARD COLSON, BRINT EWART, OMISHORE OLADIPO O, HANER BRIAN ELWIN, EADEH RAMI