i hopped off the train out for fame the only white mug shitted on the battle rappers fucked the open mics up way back in the day rockin adidas and a kangol hoodie and a blunt wrote my name with a halo mom was on that same ol get a job and get your life straight my favorite dago bangin in the back i ll do it my way 98 i gained crew drank brew and paid dues my name grew they played me on the radio i made news crowds showed me love other rappers had to show respect older heads were so upset i blew up off a broke cassette papa was a rolling stone but me i love my home the best chicago joe and if i ever blow i swear i won t forget i came up starvin in strife like the evans sippin 211 s scrapin pipes hittin resin when life gives you lemons make some fuckin lemonade shit well life gave me pain against the grain and i made this moonshine my music is a true crime i hope it ease your brain and kill your pain the way it do mine i ll either make a killin or i ll do time cause even if the fuzz is comin gunnin son i m still runnin moonshine i m tryin to do my thing bitch do you mind if you love me then i love you if it s fuck me fuck you two times 2 phillies logan bitches lookin too fine music blarin starin out the window on the blue line crazy artist type way before it was recorded morty poured his fuckin heart out when no one would support it and now they damn fools at a fam jewels performance rocked planet mars tapped the bar dry at orbit afterwards we scraped change for dirt weed and waffles wasn t even 21 and cats were blessin us with bottles plenty scummy throwin up everybody goin buck people overflowed the show po po came and broke it up i buckled down blasted wrote an underground classic bootleggers had it made the whole fuckin town has it funny style bastards couldn t hate and they knew it in my face they played stupid tryin to say they ain t do it fj music rowdy and we reek of gin we come in wreck the fuckin stage and kick the speakers in then gone with the breeze again cheesin with a bag of dollars 4 o clock in the mornin smokin kickin raps while the moonshine shit s weak somebody tellin you lies bring your baby s mama down and come and see the jewels live i ll kick game and spit flames at you swine cause i m harder from my hard luck i m smarter and my heart pumps moonshine and money i don t give a fuck who you sign you new jacks could lose lives the new batch of could knock a buzzard off a shit wagon leave a mule blind now all you little bastards hit your crib and write some new rhymes from new york out to hollywood and to every hater far and wide get out the game change your name you can call it a day your fun is up you re done run and hide we gon smack up all you bitches you re catchin it vicious naw you can t hide i ll crack your head in 2 and stomp another hole in yo ass just for fuckin with my moonshine i spit it for the kids sake the sober and the shit faced the dirt poor my sick crew the city and some inmates thick chicks and mix tapes respect and the spinach cinics eat a dick i give a shit about a critic cats are livin off of image it s a god damn shame i get em hollerin the name and i ain t gotta campaign cause i stuck to the ways that i chose motherfucker i m unknown and broke but i m gold in the gutter don t ask me what it s all about if you don t know you gots to guess this hip hop is all i got greater men have died for less you bring it home and if you don t at least you know you tried your best but this a fact you never turn your back the basement days stayin late layin dubbin over singles hopin somebody would hear it my sprit on the lowest budget hissy soundin shit recording mr morty this my story if you know it sing it for me moonshine my music is a true crime i hope it ease your brain and kill your pain the way it do mine i ll either make a killin or i ll do time cause even if the fuzz is comin gunnin son i m still runnin yo i do fine especially if you buy my joint cop that shit a few times actually i m just happy i was here to spit a few lines for you guys thank you motherfuckers naw you re too kind