This is a song about "Mile"

That ain't really my style

Bring your stupid ass back to 8 mile.

Yo, i'm a hot and bothered astronaut crashing while

And you cant do shit cause im always ahead by a mile

This is not the 8 mother fuckers no its the 9 mile

I know they gon' see me unless they senile

So i'm hurting. me effort is apparent she not fertile

That i couldn't leave even semi-free on cinco de mile*

My pistol close in handconvinced this is my year

I can smell it from a mile talking bout your fear

And certain death for us ghetto bastardswhat can we do when we're arrested, but open fire

When you sit n stair for awhile, youll see her tongue will slip out and run about a mile,

Specially equities, reckon we smile

Here we go,i perform miracles like the green mile

That's my style/ compile a file that launch me up a mile/

You never tire, might as well as inspire