[Intro: P-Stunna]
I don't really got a hook for this song..
I'mma just go in
[Verse One: P-Stunna]
I feel like Nas with this beat
Married to the girl, now I'm one with the creep
Talkin bout the game
Man that thing strange
Only genre that always speak the truth
I don't care what you wanna hear when I'm in the booth
Rap was invented by the urban youth
As a tool
To school
These fools
Bout comin up hard
Homie, can I get a nod?
(Amen to that!)
People love to ask me how does it feel
The be a rapper that don't make bills
That don't affect me
For me it ain't about the money
It's about the artform
If I need cash I'll ask a n***a if I can push the cart for him
Do you guys even remember me?
I guess I'm kinda easy
To forget
You know, no number one hit
Now before I end this verse
I just wanna point out that I did not curse
And mah girlfriend ain't got a coach purse
I hope you got the point I was tryin to get across
And you're not still pondering it, if you haven't gotten it by now, you're lost
And you probably ain't never gonna get it..