We Made It
eLDee the Don
Then it was Trybesmen shake bodi, couldn't really make money
But we made some hits though, brothers had a sick flow
Sold tapes outta my trunk, couldn't get a slam dunk
No distribution, we were getting punked
Trips to Alaba tryna have it all make sense
Aaw men, that was intense
I created the paper-pack to make some paper back
Cos I figured it would work tryna get us on the map
Soon enough brothers had to go their own way
Everybody steady tryna make their own pay
It was his fault, yeah that's what they're gon' say
But God knows best, so I don't stress
Moving on I took a trip to Atlanta, to figure how to lace my bread with some planta
And yeah I aced that, but then I got bored
Right guy in the wrong place, on the wrong board
I figured I should follow my dreams and go back to my roots, go back to my truth
If I could do it all again, it'd be the same thing, run it back, no regrets, do the same thing