This is a song about "The beat goes on"

Every since then our whole city been horrible

To say life goes on, now they're counting money on the table

Lip balm she's some nun bitch from st. john

' alright, already, the show goes on

Only if everyone can see what goes on in the planet

That i'mma pay for with dimes, nickels and quarters and shit

Witnessed my disease, spit lonely on the streets, wolf on the beat,

But if you're not dying don't fucking bother to call me back, i'm sleep

You know the common statistic inspired by hoop dreams

But that's the way it goes when you're raised on ghetto streets,

Jackson in the jacket show goes on without the racket

In some fucking yellow skinnies looking like a fucking faggot

On poetry of rap i towed on the flow he goes

You chasing hoes, we replacing hoes, bag and pass them hoes

I pray the lord my guns to keep

Manny pacquiao on the beat