This is a song about "Old rap"

These faces and places are growing old,

So i could find my rainbow, my pot of gold

I started rap when i was like 12 years old,picked up a paper, pen and started to roll,

It'll be a classic bro, u'll die in the clash but no impact will be had on ur plastic soul

I got nice hands, niggas eat out my big palms

I'm purging old habits of studying these rap charts

It's my new old shit against your old new shit

I ride by bumping shine, i do just that

This shit would leave rosetta stoned

Still moving forward like a 2 year old

I've murdered so many verses its getting old

But i did have miss medusa, she loud and she leave me stoned

Hand to hand in the cold

Shes only 17 years old

Comprendo? old school titanic flowing

And this will be the song that we sing