This is a song about "Row row fight the powa"

And i was the light

And never give up the fight

N we gone keep this shit row these niggas know how i go i do this shit for my folks

Without choice or hope to voice our own noiseless mope of far away homes

I'm ripping the shows, hitting the dough

The world looking out, they on the front row

But i gotta make sure i’m right

But writing raps is the toughest fight,

Ballin like he melo satisfied in his ghetto bitch sittin on the steps front row seats

I may not be very good at this test thing and sometimes i need a few little cheats

Tell me i ain't god's son, nigga mom a virginwe got evicted had to leave the burbs, back in the ghetto

Throw her remains into acid and watch as they begin deteriating all the way to death row,

Appalachia and the row homes in the northeast coast,

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

Get him a mauri flow, from the mauri show

6'4, got these niggas sprinting towards death row