At crossroad; spinning wheels, burning smoke,
waiting for ray to lead the way so I could make hay,
I learn my niggas are getting a lot of pounds to burn.
I hit the drill but find myself being roasted as a thrill
while I am feigning still on the grill.
Oh Lord, I got to thrive so I can
knife these a-holes who think
I won’t make the cut on a roll…
I use to think life is a tossup piece of cake
till I sold my fair share and had to liquidate.
Even when I repudiate, it comes at me like I got nothing else on my plate.
even now I got BSc. in the bag, I still have to batten down the hatches
and hope the sun catches up with me when I leave this rash behind…
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