Jake It Till You Make It
Lyrics
Born at the bottom of the mountain in a manger
Stuck to my guns even in the face of danger
Unemployed intern, to Captain of the Squad
I defied authorities & then defied the odds
I was too old, too weird, too country, too smart
Too tough to die, Iron Man with a new heart
Life give you NOTHING, gotta mask up & take it
Get it how you live
Jake It Till You Make It
VERSE 1:
Whirlwind train ride, elevated speed
Last of a dying breed, least likely to succeed
Tell me how this hillbilly prick nabbed the title
With a bottle of barbiturates & Frank Zappa vinyl
A little bit trippy that this trip been a decade
Me & Jak Dizzle splitting half a chicken sandwich
Went from bedroom producing to Manhattan real estate
I'm tryna make a million in change & then vanish
Never signed a slave deal, my servitude indentured
Made obscurity a profitable venture
Payed as an engineer, slept on artist
Production conquers, my slaps slap hardest
I need to rehabilitate & make some confessions
Why am I still in this godforsaken profession?
If you've got a little time I'll try to make this story brief
40 chapters underneath from these Tennessee streets
(REPEAT HOOK)
VERSE 2:
The winter was cold, my pops just popped himself
God bless the dead, ALS just stopped his health
I became a cold calculated being
Handpicked my comrades with amalgamated dreams
Moms lost the house had to move into a trailer
I feel like my family's only hope, I can't fail her
In the midst of Armageddon
I was rapping with the passion of a reverend
Jak moved in, combined our efforts
I gave $800 to a dude named Travis
The statue has passed plus we paid our damn taxes
He got robbed with my money but eventually flipped it
SpaceLAB Recordings was officially scripted
I faxed in an order for 1,000 CD's
Quit my job at Sears, told my boss to see deez
Ambitiously anticipate markets I ain't conquered yet
But there ain't a local rap scene, I damn near starved to death
(REPEAT HOOK)
VERSE 3:
Tried to put Johnson City on the map to no avail
Drug problem, 110 lbs. looking frail
2006 it was die or get a new bag of tricks
Packed up my '93 Jeep said goodbye to the sticks
Headed up I-26
$80 to my name, found a job the 1st week
On the N Train, greasy from the air compressor shop
Nothing bout me was fleek
Oldest intern employed by Progressive Music Studios
In the Film Center building
A year of volunteering got a job as a manager
At Play Studios on the hunt like a scavenger
With a coke head owner & a lot of bounced paychecks
Still played my shows every state that would pay me
In business for myself cause the industry drained me
But I outlasted every asshole that tried to play me
Writer(s): TOMMY JAKE VICK
Copyright(s): Lyrics © Songtrust Ave
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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