Chorus:
I got my backpack, windbreaker, snapback
Time to hit the road so that people know that rap’s back
I really hate to leave but I gotta pay my dues
In hopes that we make it through, In hopes that we make it through

Verse 1:
You got me creeping your profile
It’s been a long time with no smiles, whoa child
You got me gripping my mobile
Getting paid off rap, so wild!
All I ever wanted was to be on shows
See the lights with the neon glow
Yea every single evening yo!
But now you got me questioning what I’m leaving for
Nikes on big stages why’d they ever leave your floor?
Lonely artist with a bill full of roaming charges
Shallow girls chat me up like they’ve been the ones that’ve know me longest
Give me the eyeball, until it’s last call
But I’m just trying to sell a shirt, give em size small
Then I stick and move, to a different route
And try and block out the fact that I’m missing you
Gas station food, cheddar smokies
I’m gone now but when I come back this country better know me!

Chorus:
I got my backpack, windbreaker, snapback
Time to hit the road so that people know that rap’s back
I really hate to leave but I gotta pay my dues
In hopes that we make it through, In hopes that we make it through

Verse 2:
I’m seeing all these passing city signs
My voice so shot, that I’m sounding like I’m 65
Buck that is, not age wise
I dunno if I’ll make that long in stage life
Ya it can pay nice
Or it can pay none
But you just grind out
Until the day’s done
One night you play for kids who all want your autograph
The next night you play a show for nobody except the staff
It’s weird how it goes but like our beards how we grow
When we slap hands with rap fans til they clear out the door
Grab a glass raise a toast to the mighty West Coast
Then onto the next show, Red Bull, Espresso
So when I’m doing important stuff just know I’m not ignoring ya
You very hard to find like jobs in Victoria
So I will never board it up or bring tears to your cornea
As long as you don’t Courtney Love and stop me from recording stuff

Chorus:
I got my backpack, windbreaker, snapback
Time to hit the road so that people know that rap’s back
I really hate to leave but I gotta pay my dues
In hopes that we make it through, In hopes that we make it through

Verse 3:
Misunderstood, just trying to put my city on
I’ll never get as much play as a Diddy song
But that pop is corny like Jiffy Pop
In someone else’s shadow like I’m Diddy Kong
Too secular to Christian too Christian for secular
Forget genres compare me to a nebula
Cuz my shine will never be recognized til after I’m gone
Now that’s some call and response!
So when I say hip...
You say replacement
Cuz hip-hop is old and fell down in the basement
And I don’t have enough money for a nursing home
So I moved it into my heart, fed it verses and poems
Now it’s regaining strength from my nourishing flow
In 2 weeks, we’ll be out on the road
In 2 weeks, we’ll be out on the road
I put on for the west til they lay me to rest, it goes!

Chorus:
I got my backpack, windbreaker, snapback
Time to hit the road so that people know that rap’s back
I really hate to leave but I gotta pay my dues
In hopes that we make it through, In hopes that we make it through