This is a song about "Dying love"

Your kind is dying, it's time to adjust

8 in the morning when that street clock bust

They gon love me for my ambition

A dying dream, you even try in

And i have to say that music keeps me here, by far, the main thing

I runaway with lights flying, waiting till day the nights dying

No time to plot retreats

Giving life to dying breeds

And getting money is the song i sing

There's children dying and i am crying

Well i'm telling you now her dying i cannot handle.

With my muscle you'll be dazzled, but hustlin's a hassle

Obama trying, i'm not lyin', too many people dying

Me i'm like a young simba i can't wait to be the king