Homeward Bound

[Verse 1] Gotta go. You know I stay up on my tippy toes Floatin’ like a Cadillac through Kaki-lak, dusty roads Money’s low. Niggas know good bills is high Gotta ride. Gotta fly—planning to Plus, I’m gonna kick it in Atlanta too Just to handle a few things Dudes be protecting they blocks and never move kings I change my game like comebacks. Sure, I’mma comeback But right now, I had enough of that—I gotta make tracks [Hook] State to state, new city and town I been around, but I’m homeward bound A fast pace and I can’t slow down Solid ground. I’ll be homeward bound State to state, new city and town I been around, but I’m homeward bound Change the place, switch my hustle around Hold me down. I’ll be homeward bound [Verse 2] Yo, chip on my shoulder, city blocks on my back The only way Akir know how to act I react to the scene and snatch up the green in between shit Checking on my queen, staying with terrific leans on a different ride Slide into the other side. Fly from my mother’s side Nice guy. Slide from my pop’s side I move around a lot, never really had a spot But learn to read characters and how to pick locks Akir—one-man band. My home is where I land Arms around my fam, eyes on a different scam ‘til it jam Damn, gotta scram ‘fore the man come I try to hit the can, son, ‘cause I’m too handsome [Hook] State to state, new city and town I been around, but I’m homeward bound A fast pace and I can’t slow down Solid ground. I’ll be homeward bound State to state, new city and town I been around, but I’m homeward bound Change the place, switch my hustle around Hold me down. I’ll be homeward bound [Verse 3] Yo, I travel like a veteran where… ever I settle and Making money peddling, X-Game medaling Fiending like Carol when the [?] end I’mma win regardless ‘cause I’m a nigga that’s plotting the hardest Rap artist at eighteen. College, I dropped out Crapped out the rap game, became a model scout Getting change for bagging dames Nineteen, a producer Acid on computers, waitin’ tables just to get my loot up Cash and credit card numbers—they was on a slumber Quit for the music. That summer, nigga, I’m on the come-up Got a job telemarketing, still on the grind Gotta put the manager, started selling ‘em double lines Paycheck, monthly bonus, and extra dough they throw us Until we got busted down. S’no wonder, disgusted, I’m out Promotions for different majors. Second company Twenty-one, first client that’s really supplying papers Off-the-book cash. Traveled and we had a blast The web boom to the whole stock market crash Got a job doing car rentals. It was instrumental Shit, I had places to get to. It didn’t pay enough Times are tough, paper’s essential I knew there was more to offer Put on a suit. In a month, cellphone and office Back and forth to record my album Dropped the job, kept the cars, and pressed up a couple thousand wiling From the South to Manhattan Island A man’s prowess is important as his callouses—enormous, kid And now I rock shit. Suburbs, back to the hood New York’s my stomping ground, America’s my neighborhood