Lyrics

[Chorus: Stevie Wonder] Been through the storm, through the cold and rain Everything's still the same Can't control how I feel Sometimes it's hard to keep it real You see the luxuries in life, with the fortune and fame Like them Cadillacs with sunroofs, mane So many ways to make a dollar Huh, sometimes I think about my father You see my papa was broke and my mama was young Tryin' to blend in with them city folk Every day, landlord knockin' down my door Wonderin' where my next blessing is comin' from [Verse 1: Busta Rhymes] My mama and papa moved to the U.S. as Jamaicans Struggled to get visas and green cards through immigration Though my pop was po', stayed away from crime and malice Hard living gave him hard hands and callous As a youngin, peep how much they loved each other's spacе His hard hands rubbin' against the pretty skin of my mother's facе Dig for treasure 'til his hands looked like hands of a junkie So coarse, slap a mule and take the life from a donkey On the other hand, mommy was the type to work two jobs Never enough money, that's why I got your whole crew robbed Got older, developed ways of grippin' the steel Barely home for me to see her or get a good cooked meal Seek refuge in the alleged land of the free, lookin' Blendin' in with city folk down in Flatbush, Brooklyn Feel a little of my pain, follow and sing to it Homie, I seen it all, if you ain't knowin', I been through it In other words I [Chorus: Stevie Wonder] Been through the storm, through the cold and rain Everything's still the same Can't control how I feel Sometimes it's hard to keep it real You see the luxuries in life, with the fortune and fame Like them Cadillacs with sunroofs, mane So many ways to make a dollar Huh, sometimes I think about my father You see my papa was broke and my mama was young Tryin' to blend in with them city folk Every day, landlord knockin' down my door Wonderin' where my next blessing is comin' from [Verse 2: Busta Rhymes] Got a little older, late teens, me and my crew would huddle On the corner late nights, plottin' to escape struggle Nights got cold and still would hustle in the same place In front of Pancho Deli, now the freeze up on a nigga face 1987, Reaganomics era, curious To visit other cities, out of town, kid was serious Guayanese jeans bounce, put whatever slinger on Whoever slingin' came back, quickly brought me right along Nigga ran away from home Doin' different wild shit just to put a pair of Filas or Adidas on Reckless all for the good, gettin' into shit Like we innocent, actin' older than we should Walk around broke in the hood, watchin' all the rich niggas These younger thugs who try to choke and try to get niggas Thinkin' 'bout my mom and pop while I'm monopolizin' To hell with just gettin' by and economizin' It's kinda hard bein' humble in the belly of struggle Doin' things that probably get you in trouble That's why we stay up on the block, gettin' money while we keepin' it safe In front of churchgoers keepin' the faith Mom and pop be worryin' for they son Despite they struggle and their honest livin', look and see just what I become A scavenger in brute pursuit to be happy Another youngin that's wildin' across the line until somebody tryna cap me Oh, shit [Outro: Stevie Wonder] I've been through the storm, through the cold and rain Everything's still the same Can't control how I feel Sometimes it's hard to keep it real Woo-ooh-ooh-ooh, woah Yeah, oh, woah