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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
JAY-Z
JAY-Z
Vocals
Bashiri Johnson
Bashiri Johnson
Percussion
Ed Goldson
Ed Goldson
Bass Guitar
Mario Winans
Mario Winans
Drums
Arden Altino
Arden Altino
Keyboards
Jayms Madison
Jayms Madison
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Shawn Carter
Shawn Carter
Songwriter
Sean Combs
Sean Combs
Songwriter
Deleno Matthews
Deleno Matthews
Songwriter
Barry White
Barry White
Songwriter
LV
LV
Songwriter
Heather Boyden
Heather Boyden
Assistant Arranger
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Diddy
Diddy
Producer
LV
LV
Producer
Victor Abjaoudi II
Victor Abjaoudi II
Recording Engineer
Steve Dickey
Steve Dickey
Recording Engineer
Gimel Keaton
Gimel Keaton
Recording Engineer
Heather Boyden
Heather Boyden
Assistant Recording Engineer
Michelle Figueroa
Michelle Figueroa
Assistant Recording Engineer
Ken "Supa Engineer" Duro
Ken "Supa Engineer" Duro
Mixing Engineer
Sean Combs
Sean Combs
Producer
Deleno Matthews
Deleno Matthews
Producer
JAY-Z
JAY-Z
Executive Producer
Tony Dawsey
Tony Dawsey
Mastering Engineer

Lyrics

Most important thing in business is honesty
Integrity, hard work, family
Never forgetting where we came from
Poor me, Dad was gone, finally got my Dad back
Liver bad, he wouldn't live long, they snatched my dad back
Guidance, I never had that, streets was my second home
Welcomed me wit' open arms, provided a place to crash at
A place to study math at, matter of fact, I learned it all
Burned it all, this music is where I bury the ashes at
Flash back, not having much, not having that
Had to get some challah bread, so you can holla back, and hollered at
My Jewish lawyer to enjoy the fruit of lettin' my cash stack
And just in case a **** gotta use his rat-ta-ta-tat
Own boss, own your masters
Slave's the mentality I carry wit' me to this very day
Fuck rich, let's get wealthy, who else gonna feed we?
If I need it, I'ma get it however, God help me
And I don't need no hook for this shit
I'm so for sure, it's no facade
"Stay outta trouble," mama said as mama sighed
Her fear, her youngest son be a victim of homicide
But I gotta get you outta here mama, or I'ma die inside
And either way, you lose me mama, so let loose of me
I got the rein, our direction will soon change
To live and die in N.Y. in the hustle game
Hustle 'caine, hustle clothes, I hustle music
But hustle hard in any hustle that you pick
Skinny ****, toothpick, but, but I do lift
Weight like I'm using 'roids, Rolls Royce
Keep my movements, smooth while maneuvering
Through all the manure in the sewer that I grew up in
Choices, we make tryin' to escape
And I don't need no hook for this shit
This is not for commercial usage
Please don't categorise this as music
Please don't compare me to other rappers
Compare me to trappers, I'm more Frank Lucas than Ludacris
And Luda's my dude, I ain't tryna diss
Like Frank Lucas is cool, but I ain't tryna snitch
I'ma follow the rules no matter how much time I'ma get
I'ma live and die with the decisions that I'ma pick
So fuck DeHaven for cavin', that's why we don't speak
Made men ain't supposed to make statements
End of the story, I followed the code, cracked the safe
Other **** ain't in the game, so they practice hate
Leave that boy Hov' alone, why don't cha?
You don't have to if you don't want to
But don't say I didn't warn ya
Oh, and I don't need no hook for this shit
Written by: Barry White, Deleno Matthews, Levar Coppin, Sean Combs, Shawn Carter
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