Let's set the record straight, I spit truth from the gate
My mind creates a sickness, I inject it on my street date
Me and my brother pushing street rap grace
The Psychorealm in style since 1-9-88
Stepped in the game in '97 with the gutter tape
Increased the murder rate by slaying mics to further cake
We set the stakes high and that's the reason why
These motherfuckers want to see you die
I let a hater do his job, I cater to the mob
So they wanna introduce the creator to a sick dog
It ain't my fault rap greater cause a God
And it trips me out that's envious, emotions of a broad
I do it for the love and I do it as a job
So don't bother me unless you got five to ten large
It's Sick Jacken from the Double S squad
Living life behind 16 bars, fuck a rap star
If the homies get mad at your shine they're not homies
Success comes with enemies, that's why the top's lonely
This thing's beyond careers, it's blood, sweat, and tears
These records document our lives, they're just souvenirs
The road to the top is never easy
But I'll be in it till my last breath leaves me
Man I ain't the dopest rapper, I ain't the hardest MC
But for some reason I get caught up in the jealous envy
You see it's music from the heart so we spit it from the soul
And spit for every borough, ever street, every ghetto
Every youngster out here listening want to be a part of this
Let me break it down for them, show em how hard it is
Nothing came easily, always had to struggle
With hopes and big dreams that one day we gonna bubble
Busting freestyles with homies on street corners
Cold winter nights with my thermal on, trying to get warmer
Remember days when I never even had a show
Did my first talent show fucking with them scandalous hoes
As I sit back and reminisce, I put the pieces together in my life and how it came to this
My favourite love is hip hop man, I stay with this
Success, the best revenge keep these haters pissed
Cause all my life has been a bumpy road
And I ain't never looking back, keep my mind on my money dawg
I got 99 problems, haters is one
Fakes homies come and go, more enemies come
Jealousy and hatred, envious styles
Thrusting fake handshakes gonna be matching their smile
Take a look around your shoulder, watch your front
Expect the unexpected, fools ready to dump
Motherfuckers ain't what they tend to be
But nevertheless I still pray for my enemies
They say the streets loves me but they're too cutthroat, they're icecold
That's why I run with the psychos, you gotta be aware of all the power the mic holds
Shit you say, touch mines, it echoes at live shows
So I got a decade in the game, I'd rather have a record last forever than the fame
You can quote what I'm saying
And I don't give a fuck if you're shitting on my name
Cause I do it for the music, my life, love, and pain