All the young motherfuckers that was took in they prime
Instead of living this life of violent crime
We hustle to survive
Of the book of your life
Your yard, full of pieces of lard
A working genius, a work of art
Ahead of his years, ahead of his time,
And now these hoes are on my line
I'm just saying rap's dead when i'm not here
Using blacks of course was of wide appeal
Thoughts of us of everything of everyone's debts
You can call me cancer but i don't smoke cigarettes
Got the eye of tiger, spit of cobra, form of a dragon
Who endorse them, should pull the plug and stick a fork in them
Of which im not exactly proud of,
Ships that sail to distant places
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