This is a song about "Money run de world"

Fed her acid now the duct tape quacks back at her

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

I'll terrorize the cul-de-sac, rappers, i ain't holding back,

That i never had, but wrote it in my raps to make you mad

Honestly i could run this world better, be a better captain.

Another ratchet got dumped, in the trashcan i ain't done

And i can see our world is dying, money and power's changing us

All my peers doing years beyond drug dealinghow many caskets can we witness

Motor city's gritty, clowns like you get bent and then de-stroyed

Cause i got a lot of hair on my booty but that's beside the point

I run for the money

Its a war with the enemy

You cross dress like oscar de hoya, your life's a cock fest

The rest is in my stomach, that's including your breast