This is a song about "Till ya die"

East side till i die, brooklyn is my residence/

Ya ain't killers ya’ll got hundred yard dash guns

Till i die being fake never was a must,

Secret society all we ask is trust

Sniffed a lot of flowers, but how could i cry

And i love you, wit all my heart and soul till i die.

Raised in a masacre, im a basterd till the day i die

I swear i put this shit down without a gimmick or lie

Never gonna change till the day i die

You know i want a piece of that pie

Matter fact i am farmer john milkin' cattle tracks

Till the day i die i'm running laps around these wiretaps

I wonder why, i sit and cry

I'm gonna fight till i win or die

Just ask your heart and he will till' ya

A legend have to bow, africa