I smoked away my brain,
I think Im going dumb
Cocaine up on my gums,
I think they going numb
Im having stomach pains,
Now Im throwing up
Cause Im a microphone fiend,
Give me the bass, give me the beat
And let me lean, tap the vein, let it stream
Feel the pain, young Martin Luther King with a dream
That one day, with my team, we can make it with this rappin
Now we swaggin making money in Manhattan, straight was happenin
They try to intellect with indirection just to test you
A rebel to my death is in my flesh is in my vessels
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