Music Video

Featured In

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
JAY-Z
JAY-Z
Vocals
Steve Wyreman
Steve Wyreman
Guitar
Nate Mercereau
Nate Mercereau
Guitar
The-Dream
The-Dream
Vocals
Quarteto 1111
Quarteto 1111
Sampled Artist
Ron Gilmore, Jr.
Ron Gilmore, Jr.
Vocoder
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Shawn Carter
Shawn Carter
Songwriter
José Cid
José Cid
Songwriter
TóZé Brito
TóZé Brito
Songwriter
Dion Wilson
Dion Wilson
Songwriter
Terius The-Dream Nash
Terius The-Dream Nash
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
No ID
No ID
Producer
Gimel "Young Guru" Keaton
Gimel "Young Guru" Keaton
Recording Engineer
Mike Miller
Mike Miller
Recording Engineer
Jimmy Douglass
Jimmy Douglass
Mixing Engineer
Dave Kutch
Dave Kutch
Mastering Engineer

Lyrics

[Intro]
Ya
Live from Bedford Stuyvesant
The livest one, representing BK to the fullest
Bastard duckin' when Hov be buckin'
Chicken heads be cluckin'
[Verse 1]
Uh
Back when ratchet was a ratchet and a vixen was a vixen
And Jam Master Jay was alive, I-I-I was mixin'
Cooking coke in the kitchen
Back when Rodman was a Piston
Mike was losin' to Isaiah, 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
Yet 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 9 millimeter
When Slick Rick made Mona Lisa
When Lisa Bonet was Beyoncé of her day, I had divas, y'all
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
[Refrain]
Marcy me
[Verse 2]
Marcy me
Streets is my arteries, vein of my existence
I'm the Gotham City heartbeat
I started in lobbies, now parlay with Saudis
I'm a Sufi to goofies, I could prolly speak Farsi
That's poetry, reek of coca leaf in my past
Came through the bushes smellin' like roses
I need a trophy just for that
Old Brooklyn, not this new shit, shit feel like a spoof
Fat laces in your shoe, I'm talking bustin' off the roof
Hold the 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 grounds stay fertile
Shout out to Big Poppa, Daddy Kane, heroes
Thus, concludin' my concerto
[Refrain]
Marcy Me
[Chorus]
Must be in the air, oh
Can't walk away, I know
I know
Just the way I'm raised, I know
I know, I know, I know
Oh, Marcy, Marcy me
Just the way I am always gonna be
I ain't gonna change, no
[Outro]
Marcy, Marcy me
Just the way I am
Ain't gon' change, I know
Ain't gon' change, I know
Couldn't change me if I wanted to
You couldn't change me if you wanted to
I'ma take this with me to the moon
Written by: José Cid, No ID, Shawn Carter, Terius Nash, TóZé Brito
instagramSharePathic_arrow_out