This is a song about "The wait"

My rhymes did get me in the pageant, but oh wait

On tours, we straight making sure lawyer fees paid

The only thing i have left is to wait...

You're in the kitchen trying to fix us a hot plate

Yeah, them niggas spittin' while i'm dishing out a typhoon

Every afternoon after school crank the tunes and wait for the moon

And i was getting whipped at home in sixth grade

I was lied to and told death is the reason we wait

Just wait, this is not the end p

We the 93 chicago bulls baby

Only thing he has is his music, pac in his ear telling him "they finna hate"

Senor bout to catch me being late come on mrs roberts cant the attendance wait

Just wait til the next track

Snapple fact: you rather wack

You're goin' to hear this and begin to ride on my dick

Holdup wait a minute replenish the flow encrypted