This is a song about "The songman"

Down the street to the car,

I don’t care where ya are

Now hey little mama

I bring the heat like the

The feds introduced the drugs, all the acid, the dope and smack,

Hit, i never call her back. bet she keep on coming back

And panned out, i'm all in love

Where the fuck the chorus

So call the coroner or the mortician for the the

I make music for a reason, didn't vote obama

High as shit, i’m in a booth

Saw the bombs on the news

From the gutter to the roof

A far reach from them rap dudes

Get grand slam fans out of they seats

Thinkin of the the dreams