Song Meaning

The lyrics paint a raw, unflinching portrait of despair and a desperate search for meaning amidst profound struggle. The narrator grapples with a legacy of abandonment, referencing a father who "jetted like North West" and left the family "rejected." This sense of being left behind fuels a deep-seated pain, articulated through the stark admission, "I just hate winnin'," suggesting a weariness with the effort of striving when the rewards feel hollow or unattainable. The imagery of being "in the bottom of the eighth inning, swingin' and ain't hittin'" powerfully conveys a feeling of being stuck, perpetually on the verge of failure despite continuous effort. The central tension revolves around a profound existential crisis, amplified by a pervasive sense of isolation and a flirtation with self-destruction. The repeated plea, "Asking God, does He really know me?" underscores a feeling of being unseen and unknown by a higher power, even as the narrator is drawn to "drugs" and expresses a desire to "OD." This internal conflict between the will to survive and the pull of oblivion is palpable, creating a desperate, almost frantic energy throughout the track. The lyrics suggest a battle against an unseen force, perhaps addiction or depression, that feels like it's "fuckin' with gravity," making every attempt to stay grounded feel futile. One of the most striking aspects of the writing is its brutal honesty and the way it weaponizes self-deprecation as a form of defiance. The narrator doesn't shy away from expressing dark thoughts, even admitting, "I'm deserving to die." This raw vulnerability is juxtaposed with a defiant pride, particularly in the lines, "You can't knock the Proof, one thing I got is truth." The repeated assertion that "this game is a drug" frames the music industry itself as a destructive force, one the narrator is willing to "OD" for, highlighting a complex relationship with his art and the world it inhabits. Ultimately, these lyrics resonate because they articulate a deep, often unspoken, pain with startling clarity. The raw emotion, coupled with vivid, often bleak, imagery like "display hell on the block" and the feeling of "scrappin' with a homeless man for his space," creates a powerful sense of shared struggle. The narrator's direct address to God and his raw confessions about his internal battles make the listener feel like a confidante, privy to the most vulnerable moments of a soul in crisis. It's this unflinching honesty about pain and the search for validation that makes the song hit so hard.

D12 & Bizarre - Rap, In English

Ostrage Trot

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[Intro: Proof] Ey yo from the politicians to D12 From the revelations of Heaven all the way to Hell Sun is dying [Verse 1: Proof] I ain't trying to go as long as my grandpa Give the kids the answer, "I had a fight with cancer" I'm out, please pass the transfer Don't hold me for ransom, tell Myra her grandson couldn't take it Whoever knew all these years I grew and wouldn't make it Tell me if the hood is sacred, then display hell on the block Snitches, switches, ambitions, now you tell 'em to cock My future fell on my props, but pop jetted like North West Of course sex was all he expected, neglected our door step (Now I feel rejected) so I turn to drugs burning but learned I was stuck with reality Nothing to hold me down, they fuckin' with gravity Iron right like they hit on Iron Mike, tryna die tonight Can't think of one good reason why that fuck should try to fight And by the life of my children that sit with great women And it ain't that I'ma loser bitch, I just hate winnin' It's in the bottom of the eighth inning, swingin' and ain't hittin' The top up of the night, it's almost over we ain't pitchin' You ain't even listen the top of the knife And bitch we ain't pitchin' pitchin' [Chorus: Proof (Bizarre)] Nothing but drugs approach me (Approach me) I won't stop trying to OD (I wanna OD) Where's the flames or is Heaven smoking? (Is it smoking?) Asking God, does He really know me? (Do you really know me?) [Verse 2: Proof] And what the fuck I wanna be here for? My friends got money, but it's like they wanna see me poor But like that homie, shit ain't gon' be no more 'Cause I'ma take you to slope, so you could see me go It's like scrappin' with a homeless man for his space It's like a enemy from your past, but you don't know his face That's it, nothing clever the chorus really listen to it Ain't no gimmick to it, war we can get into it This microphone let me spit into it [*proof spit*] Fuck this game, real shit you didn't do it This game is a drug, I'ma OD for ya Vomit the industry lives on a four-leaf clover In hot pursuit and the Glock will shoot You can't knock the Proof, one thing I got is truth (What?) So here's the word to the wise, Big and 'Pac didn't motherfucker I'm deserving to die, I'm coming [Chorus: Proof (Bizarre)] Nothing but drugs approach me (Approach me) I won't stop trying to OD (I wanna OD) Where's the flames or is heaven smoking? (Is it smoking?) Asking God, does he really know me? (Do you really know me?) [Ad-libs: Bizarre] Do you really know me motherfucka? Do you know the shit I been through? Do you know the drugs I take? The hoes I fuck? The niggas I beat up? It's D-12 motherfucka, and you don't know me Dirty Harry a little skinny motherfucka that'll fuck you up Chris Rock your brother, bitch [Chorus: Proof] Nothing but drugs approach me I won't stop trying to OD Where's the flames or is heaven smoking? Asking God, does he really know me? Nothing but drugs approach me I won't stop trying to OD Where's the flames or is heaven smoking? Asking God, does he really know me? Know me!

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Writers: Proof

Ostrage Trot

Ostrage Trot

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