Wrote My Way Out (from "The Hamilton Mixtape")

("I wrote my way out")
When the world turned its back on me
I was up against the wall
I had no foundation
No friends and no family to catch my fall
Running on empty, th'was nothing left in me but doubt
I picked up a pen and "I wrote my way—" out

I picked up the pen like Hamilton
Street analyst, now I write words that try to channel 'em
No political power—just lyrical power
Sitting on a crate on a corner, sipping for hours
Scheming on a come up, from evening to sun up
My man awaiting trial, misdemeanors we younger
Courtroom prejudice, insufficient evidence
Jailhouse lawyers, these images still relevant
Flickering lights inside my project hall
Sickening, the mice crawl all night long
And '87 Reaganism, many pages I've written on
Writing songs about rights and wrongs and bails bonds
Master bedroom, bigger than the crib that I was raised at
I'm the architect like I wrote the code to Waze app
I'm driven, black Elohim from the streets of Queens
The definition of what It Was Written means
Know what I mean?

("I wrote my way out")
When the world turned its back on me
I was up against the wall
I had no foundation
No friends and no family to catch my fall
Running on empty, there was nothing left in me but doubt
I picked up a pen and "I wrote my way—" out

I really wrote my way up out of 6E
Develop relationships with fiends, I know they miss me
Before the metrocards, it was tokens, I did the ten speed
Never had wrote a rhyme in my life, what was a sixteen?
At sixteen, arrested in housing, trip to the mountains
Came right back, trapping off couches, watching for mouses
Only tools we was posed with, had a spot, smoke lit
The hate is just confusion, pay attention how them jokes switch
Diadora was my favorite, the Mark Buchanans
Mama couldn't afford them, I learned everything on the border
That's a big 8, Clicquot parties with private dancers with no mixtape
Bumble Bee Tuna, now we could get steak
I persevered, composition, I kept it close
Competition near, I'm a Spartan without the spear
Three hundred rhymes, it was written before I wrote it
Opportunity knocking, might miss it, that window closing
This poetry in motion, I'm a poet

("I wrote my way out")
When the world turned its back on me
I was up against the wall
I had no foundation
No friends and no family to catch my fall
Running on empty, there was nothing left in me but doubt
I picked up a pen and I wrote my way out!

High speed, dubbing these rhymes in my dual cassette deck
Running out of time like I'm Jonathan Larson's rent check
My mind is where the wild things are, Maurice Sendak
In withdrawal, I want it all, please give me that pen back
Y'all, I caught my first beating from the other kids when I was caught reading
"Oh, you think you smart?"—Blaow!—start bleeding
My pops tried in vain to get me to fight back
Sister tapped my brains, said, "Pssh—you'll get 'em right back."
Oversensitive, defenseless, I made sense of it, I pencil in
The lengths to which I'd go to learn my strengths and knock 'em senseless
These sentences are endless, so what if they leave me friendless?
"Damn, you got no chill," fucking right—I'm relentless
I know Abuela's never really gonna win the lottery
So it's up to me to draw blood with this pen, hit an artery
This Puerto Rican's brains are leaking through the speakers
And if he can be the shining beacon this side of the G.W.B and
Shine a light when it's gray out?

("I wrote my way out")
Oh, I was born in the eye of a storm
No loving arms to keep me warm
This hurricane in my brain is the burden I bear
I can do without, I'm here (I'm here)
'Cause "I wrote my way—" out!

"—picked up the pen like Hamilton"
"I wrote my way out of the pro—"
"—wrote—"
"—wrote my way out of the projects"
"—pick—"
"—picked up the pen like Hamilton"
"I wrote my way out of the—"
"—wrote—"
"—wrote my way out of the—"
("I wrote my way—")
"—picked up the pen like Hamilton"
"I wrote my way out of the pro—"
"—wrote—"
"—wrote my way out of the projects"
("I wrote my way out")

"Really, I saw, like, a hole in the rap game, so, if I wanted to put my little two cents in the game, then it would be from a different perspective."
("I wrote my way out")
"I thought that I would represent for my neighborhood and tell their story, be their voice, in a way that nobody has done it. Tell the real story."