Head High

[Intro: Rob Markman]
I mean one day
Muthafucka came to me and said I gotta be humble
Have you ever read the fuckin' definition of humble?
You see me, you see greatness, what the fuck I got to be humble about?
You know?
You fuckin' with a Marksman

[Verse 1: Rob Markman]
I heard that humbleness is weakness
Gather 'round, I don’t know who need to hear this
They want us humble, deep down they really fear us
We been humble for minute, eatin' anything they feed us
I never had a bite, can't wait until the afterlife
I read the Passion Christ, this is what my passion like
A hustler, manic-like, far from the panic type
Tryna get the package right, goin' hand to hand at night
Food on the table, but the babies fed by candlelight
I mean salmon’s nice, tonight it’s only spam and rice
Gotta keep the family tight just in case the famine strike
My hunger unexplainable, I gotta big appetite
They say the meek shall inherit
Sorry, father, that shit ain't in my spirit
I'm made in ya image and they placed you in a prison
But I'll never let 'em trap me in my humble beginnings

[Chorus: The Ichiban Don]
Aye aye aye stand up, chest out, head high
Any nigga take me for sweet, bunch of dead guys
Get out my way little nigga, lemme shine, lemme grind
God bless every nigga on their way up
Shoot, this ain't no lay-up
No
Pay dues, take ya pay cuts
Boy, it's time to get this muthafuckin' paper

[Verse 2: Rob Markman]
I screamed Write to Dream, everybody told me dream on
Most days had nobody else to lean on
Didn't have no blueprint, drew the shit freeform
Didn't have no 'Ye, or no Bink to put no beats on
No Just, just the Ichiban D-Don
He said, "Rob, I got some shit you need to breathe on"
Linked me up with Pat, that young brother a phenom
I caught a flight, first night we did three songs
This all manifested, shit I've been battle-tested
Fuck the opps, been duckin' shots since my adolescence
Bullets no names, I feel this one had a message
Shots close range, thank God that I had a second
Never touched me, I’m what you would consider lucky
Fate's two-faced, 50/50, shit is pretty ugly
They screaming fuck me huh? It could get pretty touchy
That's when you breathe and you hit 'em like, “This shit's above me”

[Chorus: The Ichiban Don]
Ayy, ayy, ayy, stand up, chest out, head high
Any nigga take me for sweet, bunch of dead guys
Get out my way little nigga, lemme shine, lemme grind
God bless every nigga on their way up
Shoot, this ain't no lay-up
No
Pay dues, take ya pay cuts
Boy, it's time to get this muthafuckin' paper