im mixing up the chicks that i smash in the backseat of a lac we play taxi they tag team against me until I tap yep then it's s back to the lap to to continue attacing the mic in attempt to get my name on the map killing these lyrics like its a rap but it's a tragic season of hide the mic and go see if the wite guy can find the key into the industry but blowing smoke up the enemies ass not mine im filling find genuine and DeVine ridel ryhm ryhmicly off my mind till I die or get mine fifty five mill and a mile head start running to the finish line to buy new air maxes i fit a nine mine might be covered by grit and grime it tim and im ready for time