I grew up in the Bronx, rough neighborhood.
Times were tough, my mom didn't know what to do.
She worked long nights, all week as I struggled in school.
I failed every class, didn't make it too far.
Where'd I end up? 
Strippin' at some bar.
Every night men would look and stare.
I used my body for money, but nobody cared.
Where'd it get me?
What good did it do? 
But through all of my struggles, I made it out on top.
I've made it, I've succeeded, I rose up from there.
Now I'm a rapper, come on. 
Go ahead and stare.