Damn.... I don't do this for fun man. It's my job dawg. All you see is the videos and the rings and the watch. And the bracelet and chains. And you know grills and more chains. Another chain on top of that. And another ring on another finger and another grill. And then I switch grills and then I change chains. And that's all you see but you know…. 'Ey. I wake up early in the morning. Hit the snooze button for hours. Get up hop into a two hundred thousand dollar shower. Brush my teeth when I'm out it. Remote start the Audi. Kiss my boy kiss my girl kiss my wife and then I'm outtie. Damn. Grind time from a struggle to a hussle. "Aw man"s to "God damn"s. From a clam to a mussel. I ain't say you had it better. But damn did I tussle. I ain't have much. But if you tried to take it I'll bust ya. It feels like I done died. 'Cause every time I drive my past life flash. Right in front of my eyes. 'Cause I'm not one of them guys. That don't remember shit. Can't even go home and drive alone in this whip. 'Cause everybody want him gone. But you got me fucked up. If a nigga gon' be on YouTube saying'. I ain't from my bowin' homes [?]. So I'm gonna keep goin' strong. And let you niggas go out of season. As long as my kids is breathin'. I'm doing this for a lot of reason. I do it for my kids and they kids' kids. And when I'm dead they come to my grave. To tell me what they kids did yeah. I'mma tell 'em my style and how long I has hated on about it. And how it took twenty minutes to make a song about it. Even though I was young I was actin' grown about it. Took some years but eventually they left me 'lone about it. Old folks cheering' me on 'cause they know I got it. They see niggas get in the game and fold like origami. But the only foldin' I'm doin' is when I'm at shows poppin'. Got 'em fainting' like Michael Jackson straight hos droppin'. Then I go home safely homie there's no robbin'. Gated community. You gotta know the code partna. Walk up to the crib. Lamborghini look so proper. And six old-schools sittin' on 24" choppas. White folks in my neighborhood think I'm the Dalai Lama. 'Specially when I come outside like roo sticky dima [?]. But everything good gotta turn bad. It's like the weekly drama. You know lil' small shit. Like girls saying' they my baby mama. But this music has made me calmer. I now understand karma. These niggas is mad. They wanna assassinate me. Like Barack Obama. But I graduated School of Hard Knocks summa cum laude. On the side of the stage. Like I am really 'bout to fuck this crowd up. That makes me prouder makes me a man. If you ain't doin' what I'm' doin'. You automatically a fan. Damn get on your knees please. And praise God that he sent you somebody. That can just tell you niggas these things. Radio Killa R&B King T.P.. The Music Jesus. A.K.A. the Lord of the Three Rings