This is a song about "La baguete"

Growin up all i wanted was a father figure

Slick rick, de la soul, and rakim spit sicker,

Scott la rock, mac dre, and jam master jay,

And i got 'em every day, every day

Je suis la garçon qui cracher flamme, french, i just cannot

Amnesty international got bangkok to montauk on lock

Distribution, new york, to chicago, l.a.

Used to call me the african don dada

When you making a difference it's gone be haters

Got acres of papers, like i played for the la lakers.

See, baby, i'm a leader day away from a libra

To this day as he roams the urban maze we call la

Not generic from ny, la, the chi, what hood am i gon talk about?

God forgive and we don't, keep my circle small you can't get in my crowd