[Intro: low strings alone, then the kick] Ninety-eight, the marshal put our couch out on the curb Twelve years old and I watched it rain and never said a word [Verse 1] Had a bike with a bent back wheel and a seat held on with tape Traded it to Marcus for a speaker, called it even, that's the shape Speaker had a hole in it, I patched it with a sock Rented it to every cookout up and down the block Lady Pearl ran a studio above the laundromat Gave her the speaker for twenty hours, simple as that Twenty hours, and I ain't waste a single one on sleep Made a beat so mean it rattled every fucking tooth on the street [Hook] Bike for a speaker, speaker for a mic Mic for a session, session for a ride Never stole a thing, every deal was fair Trade up, trade up, look at me up there [Verse 2] Kid from up the hill wanted that beat for his tape Didn't have the cash, but he had a car with no brakes Fixed 'em in the alley with a wrench and a prayer Sold it to a cabbie for the down on a lot by the square Lot turned to a shop, and the shop turned to three Every man I traded with will look you in the eye for me Loan officer asked me what I had for collateral Showed her a photo of a bike, said, ma'am, that's all of it Never had a cosigner, never had a rich friend Every time they told me no, I heard, come back again Every rung I climbed, I left it sturdy for the next I don't owe a soul a favor, I don't owe a man a text [Hook] Bike for a speaker, speaker for a mic Mic for a session, session for a ride Never stole a thing, every deal was fair Trade up, trade up, look at me up there [Verse 3] Twenty-six years later and the building's going cheap Same brick, same stoop, same crack across the steps Owner's selling out to put up glass and a gym I outbid the glass by a dollar with a borrowed pen Walked the halls with the deed, knocking door to door Mrs. Ortiz, Mr. Bell, every tenant up on four Said, I'm selling this building, and the price is one buck One from every door, and nobody's packing a truck [Bridge: low strings and the kick only] They said, why trade down? You could own this street I had a couch on a curb, and that was plenty for me Fifty-two doors and fifty-two dollar bills Best deal on the block, and I'm framing it still [Final Hook: the strings run upward into the first line] Bike for a speaker, speaker for a mic Mic for a session, session for a ride Building for a dollar, dollar from each door Trade up, trade down, that's what trading's for [Outro: piano hit, strings hold, one last kick] Fifty-two dollars in a coffee can on the shelf Richest I ever been, and I didn't keep it for myself [End]
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