This is a song about "The 21st century"

Play the game nigga

I bring the heat like the

Got the passion for the music

And she got the bomb, i'm talking tick tick

Yeah i ain't done

The bigger the the fun

Family is all i need but indeed them too can run me right up a tree

I may be the illest emcee to be born here in this time of the century

So call the coroner or the mortician for the the

Sort of remind you, why you don’t court no vagina

And nearly choked when he'd tell me not to smokedaaamn, don't get me started

Isn't it ironic when i label 21st century songs vomit,

And your son was born with cancer and he live in urgent care

You’re the plastic, i’m the passion and the magic in the air

The coupe i’m in is rented, i ain’t wit’ all that commitment shit

Isn't it ironic when i label 21st century songs vomit,