, , ,

I called Nas out he threw up Illmatic verses and swami photage,
My flow rapid fire, dancin like tommy bullets,
It’s 2014, that was 94′
20 years ago, nowadays I’m guaranteed to get that hiney sore,
Slimey whores tried to play me short like tiny doors,
If you find me bored, 90 swords a carve 90 floors,
All on the train like portraits,
All on the track in the Porsches,
I’m torchin’, til I fall on my back in a coffin’,
Never sleep much all of my facts from the bosses,
You can ask the streets tho, I respect classics,
Hit all of my free throws, tried to step on my fashion,
Rock star attitude, hit the lobby with a cycle,
To make a long story short, what’s a Bobby to a Michael?
New York, I helped restore the Big Apple Pie huh?
And time aint wasted as long as I won.