[Intro] Yo, I gotta do something man It's now or never I'm either all the way right Or I'm all the way left Let me explain
[Verse 1: Journalist 103] I got one hand clutching the Nine The other is clutching the microphone Trying to make a clear choice between the right and wrong Trying to stay in the zone with the right mind frame But I keep getting distracted, my whole life's changed I done went from being the best at it To being the last to even get mentioned, it's pure madness I can go to the lab and be productive I throw my hands up at the world and say 'fuck it' The rap game – hate it; hip hop – I love it Fighting to stay sober or to abuse the substance My temperature's high, spontaneous combustion Leaves me to spit this lava in this discussion So it's a must that I continue to struggle Or hide behind my weakness knowing I got the muscle To move mountains of trial within my pathway So I say Bismillah, you cowards make way
[Hook] I gotta make a move Don't step to me homie I'm bad news Walk off wit you battered and bruised I gotta make a move Cause now I got nothing to lose You would never will to walk in my shoes I gotta make a move Sturdy face in the inner city blues As I try to make a step to improve I gotta make a move While you got your clock on snooze I'm up early getting paid my dues I gotta make a move
[Verse 2: Journalist 103] I'm living in hell struggling to get to heaven As I fight this urge to use a Smith & Wesson Its a toss up as I'm searching for guidance Do I follow my demons or take the path to be righteous How do I fight this? Meaning how do I write this Lyrical prescription leading the cure to sickness Listen as I spit this, choices gotta be made Before i find myself in a rage throwing grenades Load and cocking the gauge, feeling to hit the stage Just in case i need to avoid my temperous phase Running from my own inner power like Bruce Banner But tired of being oppressed and murdered by these gaffers This life is a test, [?] is what I'm after So I'm steady writing for freedom in every chapter In every line I design I clear a pathway So I say Bismillah, you cowards make way