This is a song about "Beat goes on"

She goes on in, walks into his home,

But i be like for real, just pick up that phone

Nightmare on any street

When i spit on the beat,

Probably modestly, spitting bodily harm on a beat

Livin' off ya dreams like christina uh-milian in the front seat

I’m sayin’ that i know, revealing them most

On poetry of rap i towed on the flow he goes

Plus 11-99 in his muthafuckin' chest

Better then sex is what goes on next.

And i can see us after school, we'd bomb

' alright, already, the show goes on

But that's the way it goes when you're raised on ghetto streets,

Your bitch kind of ugly but she sure fill up them jeans

Lucky seven probably poppa

Move on life goes on, so let's keep goin', momma