inside of this place i keep the bread from lyrics i spill/
i've lyrically killed with significant rap spiritual skills/
if i'm sick in the head i guess that means i'm verbally ill/
bills they fold like got my pen homing in on the spot/
step and get ya dome knocked from poems i've rocked/
from pebbles i've thrown to stones that i've dropped/
pops lay out a threat and get stabbed with a knife/
sick son, i caught aids and still passed it on to my wife/
we makin money by snatchin purses and pullin heists/
takin cash fast from dice that i'm rollin nice/
schemin caps i might have to peel kwick/
but on the real i dont rock ice i steel it/
Smokin-Crack, Whites, Asian's, Loc's-N-Black's/
leavin Hope's-Ta-Rap, dream's Smoked-N-Smashed!/
Kid's givin they Dreams-Up, Ta become Phene's-Cuffed/
Need cash for drugs, constantly chasin that Green-Stuff!/
