Yay.

Yeah.

We been rapping for pennies for half of a century.

Laughing to mask the fact that I'm basking in envy.

Master the craft, now they use my masters against me.

Advance me some cash after the taxes, I'm practically empty.

Slowly losing my passion, the path of an MC.

Got me gasping, passing the Henny and grasping the semi.

Niggas think cause I dropped the classic, I'm doing better.

Like I got a slew of cheddar.

If only you knew my thoughts of pursuing a new endeavor.

They saying, Grip, you can't give up on the music, never.

I quit, it's something you can never say.

It's funny, they act like I just started rapping yesterday.

Fact of the matter is, you niggas just started pressing play.

I met a man whose pupils were dollar signs.

He made a deal that promised I won't be forgotten time.

But here's the catch.

Every single rhyme you jot is mine.

Not a problem?

Fine.

Just put your name on this dotted line.

There's a confusion about nooses.

Guess our lessons ain't been learned.

There's a contusion in our music.

Guess our trauma ain't been earned.

I realize my sacrifice don't mean shit to my master's burn.

All of this shit down to the ground until ownership gets its turn.

Yeah.

product of the madness so this product to the masses from poverty we bastards so we flash in a high fashion never learned cash money so when we earn cash money we burn cash money ghetto stars turn crash dummies

and foreign cards this least and all them mods with links we had to bust down for all them times a nigga had to bust it

I spent like half the budget to put some gas in a bucket down at your last like fuck it.

If I was a lad whose dad had ducats, would I get a biz to green light if I knew the words I sing might?

Put me on a string like puppets.

Controlled by Geppetto from ghetto to ghetto.

Kiss your hood goodbye and tell Hollywood hello.

But old habits die hard.

Why from we die young?

Because we can't let bygones be bygones, so we bygones.

And when you caught slipping, they're going to make a killing off your killing.

And the cycle continues for your children.

Down.

Oh.