Still Strugglin' - Raekwon

I know how it feels to wake up fucked up

Pockets broke as hell, another rock to sell

People look at you like you’re the user

Selling drugs to all the losers mad Buddha abuser

But they don’t know about the stress-filled day

Baby on the way mad bills to pay

That’s why you drink Tanqueray

So you can reminisce and wish

You wasn’t living so devilish s-shit

I remember I was just like you

Smoking blunts with my crew

Flipping over SIXTY-TWO's

Cause G-E-D wasn’t B-I-G, I had to get P-A-I-D

That’s why my mom hates me

She was forced to kick me out, no doubt

Then I figured out Nick’s went for twenty down south

Packed up my tools for my raw power move

Glock nineteen for casket and flower moves

Four chumps trying to stop my flow

And what they don’t know will show on the autopsy

Went to see papi, to cop me a brick

Asked for some consignment and he wasn’t trying to hear it

Smoking mad Newports cause I’m doing court for an assault

That I caught in Bridgeport, New York

Catch me if you can like the ginger bread man

You better have your gat in hand

Cause man

A man with a dream with plans to make C.R.E.A.M

Still struggling, Survival got me buggin'

(Souls of a soldier in the streets of survival)

Life as a shorty shouldn’t be so rough

(The rough life, I just be up nights. It got me)

Still strugglin'

(Campaign)

Lay out your maintain

(In the everyday struggle)

I grew up on the crime side, the New York Times side

Staying alive was no jive

Had secondhands, moms bounced on old man

So then we moved to Shaolin land

A young youth, yo rockin' the gold tooth, 'Lo goose

Only way I begin to G off was drug loot

And let’s start it like this son, rolling with this one

And that one, pulling out Gats for fun

But it was just a dream for the teen, who was a fiend

Started smoking woolies at 16

And running up in gates, and doing hits for high stakes

Making my way on fire escapes

No question I would speed, for cracks and weed

The combination made my eyes bleed

No question I would flow off, and try to get the dough all

Sticking up white boys in ball courts

My life got no better, same damn 'Lo sweater

Times is rough and tough like leather

Figured out I went the wrong route

So I got with a sick tight clique and went all out

Catchin' keys from across seas

Rollin' in MPV’s, every week we made forty G’s

Yo brothers respect mine, or anger the TEC-9

(Get live, muthaf~)