| Live from Bedford-Stuyvesant the livest one representing BK to the fullest |
| Bastards ducking when Hov be buckin' chicken heads be cluckin' |
| Back when ratchet was a ratchet and the vixen was a vixen and Jam Master Jay |
| was alive I was mixing |
| Cooking coke in the kitchen back when Rodman was a Piston |
| Mike was losing to Isiah but he soon would get his sixth one |
| Gave birth to my verbal imagination assume a virtue if you have not |
| Or better yet here’s a verse from Hamlet |
| «Lord, we know who we are |
| Yeah, we know not what we may be» |
| So maybe I’m the one or maybe I’m crazy |
| I’m from Marcy houses where the boys die by the thousand |
| Back when Pam was on Martin yeah that’s where it all started |
| When Denzel was blottin' carpet, I’ll pack a nine millimeter when Slick Rick |
| made Mona Lisa |
| When Lisa Bonet was Beyoncé of her day, I had divas ya’ll |
| Think I just popped up in this bitch like a fetus? Nah |
| Pregnant pause, give you some second thoughts |
| There’s room on the bandwagon, don’t abort |
| Marcy me |
| Marcy me |
| Streets is my artery, the vein of my existence |
| I’m the Gotham City heartbeat |
| I started in lobbies now, probably with Saudis |
| Sufi to the goofies I could probably speak Farsi |
| That’s poetry read a coca leaf from my past |
| Came through the bushes smelling like roses I need a trophy just for that |
| Old Brooklyn not this new shit, shift feel like a spoof |
| Fat laces in your shoe I’m talking busting off the roof |
| Hold a uzi vertical, let the thing smoke |
| Y’all flirting with death I be winking through the scope |
| Shout out to all the murderers turned murals, plural fuck the Federal Bureau |
| Shout out to Nostrand Ave. Flushing Ave. Myrtle |
| All the County of Kings, may your ground stay fertile |
| Shout out to Big Poppa, Daddy Kane, heroes |
| Thus concluding my concerto, Marcy me |
| Must be in the air, oh can’t walk away I know I know |
| Just the way I was raised I know I know I know |
| Oh Marcy, Marcy me just the way I am always gonna be |
| I ain’t gonna change, no |
| Marcy, Marcy me just the way I am |
| (Como as minhas tocando aqui |
| Eu não canto do mundo, o meu tempo…) |