It's April 19, 2024, 08:39:32 PM
so I started makin' bucks off the tapes I sold/but I ain't quittin' til I feel like findin' crates o' gold/and shake the globe, wit' the power of words/stand firm as if a yet to be built tower emerged/cuz no, coward deserves to share the stage wit' me/'n travel the same road that I paved fa me/I may not be, the greatest business man/but this game to me, ain't to be a business scam/I'll git rich man, yo, regardless of paths/that I might choose in my life so I can harvest some cash/but part of me's mad, though, that the progress is slow/my songs may be dope but you can't spot me wit' ho's/droptop on chromes, or an iced out grill/all I have is the pain in my mind to spill/even if I tried to flee or go and hide in a bin/hiphop will find me, cuz it lives inside of my skin/peace