This is a song about "To the beacha"

Our nation have to bow, africa

Your fate equates to stormin the

The paper to the pen.

Bet i get like 8 of them

To reality and to the facts

I'm on the stage, you in the stands

Slumdog far apart any sub par

Down the street to the car,

Chasing the feeling to conquer to own it

Uh, yea yea, turn me up a lil bit

From the bottom to the top

Ey, butt rape on a female cop

The sequel to the first

It's such a lonely world

From the cradle to the grave

See money talk and these days