[Intro - Spoken]
Yeah... this one's real
Racer's storyfrom the struggle to the rise
Bay to Texas... listen up
[Verse - Full Story Flow]
Back in ninety-four, sixth grade, James Lick
Rockin' Dickies, Ben Davis, girls all slick
Slicked-back hair, creased up clean
Tryna be the flyest little G on the scene
Gang ties creepin' in the hallway smoke
Scraps in the bathroom, throwin' fists non-stop
Trumpet in my grip but the streets called louder
Soccer at PE or fists gettin' prouder
MacAteer came, and the heat got wild
TNS deep, I was that Bay child
Scraps, MS, all posted around
Bleachers was home, I ain't backin' down
But the homies turned cold, girls drew the line
My crew fell apart, I was readin' the signs
Had to get jumped outtwice to be free
One said "Stay down," the other came for me
Then came the cansRacer in bold
Fat caps, markers, my story got told
JC let me in, "Just Crushing" my name
I was bombing Muni buses, tagging my flame
Urban Pioneers by day, rock climbs and more
But my heart stayed wild, sketchin' burners galore
Cut too much class, let my grades slip
But I knew I had art in my blood, in my grip
Job Corps next, tryna chef in the mix
But the marker in my pocket kept bringin' me licks
Tagged a fed wall, roommate snitched fast
Pops took me inthen he snapped, couldn't last
Hit the streets, no roof, no peace
Stayed up all night, never folded, no lease
Boosted gear, held weed, just to feel like a king
Had the squad with me deepweed made em cling
Youth shelter caught me, gave a spot I could crash
Met folks from the nation, we all lived fast
But my son came along, gave me a cause
No more tags, no more dodgin' the laws
Got a job at the ballpark, warehouse shifts
Stackin' trays while my baby boy lifts
That gig saved my life, gave me purpose and pay
From homies on the corner to legit every day
Then I dipped to Texas, needed a breath
Stayed with sis, but I felt that test
Met two bad onestatts and curls
Drank and smoked with them country girls
Three bodies tangled in southern heat
But I missed my son, I missed my street
Packed my bags, left lust in the past
Came back home, I was free at last
[Outro - Spoken]
Name's Michael...
Used to be Racer
From street fights and bleachers to clockin' in labor
From taggin' up buses to raisin' my seed
Now I stand on my feetain't no need to bleed
