It was quebec, where i lit him up with fire,
It's like we both forgot what we were fighting for
So the right to have these women, i'm entitled to their interest
The disease of the wordsmith hidden inside of the mist
A clever idea to take something they said
Beat of the drum soon the rhythm of the dead.
That would be enough
The one who em talks of
Hopin' that my niggas see
To the rigors of the industry
My nigga, its all love
The things im most scared of
Hopped on the pulpit and told them how i was truly blessed
Coz the money of is in the hands of the president
Of the coke and the smoke of weed
What do i really need
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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