, iffy and pitiful , shitty and beautiful,
Forever i ain't run yet and i never will
And get it again and again
Roll wit ace, khaled and them
Where you welcome to problems
Blood and cuts, ifs and buts
And once i'm dead and gone
But if i'm wrong
Punchlines and wordplay and rhyming and my metaphors,
My father was missing, war lord oliver north
Living young and wild and free
Third ward general, young cash money
Coldest clothes, bankrolls and hoes, and o's and o's, alone and cold,
I ain't tricking but they see you as a pot of gold
I'm sitting on this couch, wrist bloody
And a fridge and some broccoli
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