Lyrics
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…
(record scratches) Moonshine, my music is a true crime
I hope it ease your brain and kill your pain the way it do mine
(In due time), 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 dimes), 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, (who's 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
(School time), 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 (Moonshine!)
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 (world-wide)
Get out the game, change your name you can call it a day
Your fun is up, you’re done, run and hide (pack your shit)
We gon' smack up all you bitches
You’re catchin' it vicious, naw you can’t hide (no dice)
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, (That's just Common Sense)
The basement days stayin' late layin' lyrics
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
(In due time), I’ll either make a killin' or I’ll do time
Cause even if the fuzz is comin' gunnin' son I’m still runnin
(Hey yo, how you doin' Morty?), 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
