This is a song about "Samuel de champlain"

That's gon' make it hard to smile in the futurebut through whatever you see

Give me the mic, my de-vice, that i utilise, write these lines, that'll be

Re-directed de-ci-sions

I only got four minutes

Wish i get i could produced by scoop de-ville, no need to take pills

Until then, my feet planted on the ground, shadowboxing my conscience

Word picture, hurt niggas, young verse killer

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

De ja vouz, i could vision my killa crew, more hospitable, consciously

To him, nothing is funnymind set on one thing, making his money