30

Sent ya bitch a dick pic and now she need glasses
Turn your bitch Slick Rick right now if I flashed it
Ate a couple pills took the bud out the plastic
Flicking bogey ashes bitch I stay blasted
Microphone Cassius, Magic with the sick shit
'Posed to been dead but bitch I'm still up in this bitch
Verbal herbal poison, words I contortion
Fucked a pregnant bitch, she saved money on her abortion
I feel like Billy Corgan in a church playing organ

Covering Too Short, smoking a Newport
Hurt hope the drugs will help the pain to go away
But all these thoughts up in my head made the sane go astray
Step inside a mind that revolves around the rhyme
And every time he close his eyes, visions of white lines
Dying in the arms of a blond blue eyed twenty something
Don't know her name but the paramedics chest pumping
Thirty something black male, OD'ed off of pills
That he wasn't prescribed but they took his life
Left behind a daughter that doesn't really even know him
'Cause her momma thought he wouldn't make a living off of poems

But it was a long journey on a rocky road
Had a hoody on and a jacket in the snow
Walking in the cold on the way to the studio
Nigga, that was just a couple years ago
Dropped a couple mixtapes on the net
And niggas tried to front like it wasn't all that
But guess what bitch I'm coming back
Guess what bitch I'm coming back
Signed to Fool's Gold and everything's all gnarly
Now these bitches want my number to get up in party

Came a long way from extension cords in the window
Borrowing neighbor's power just to plug up the Nintendo
Where the ovens never closed and stoves never off
Every winter so cold niggas sleeping wearing scarves
But I always tell myself that it's gonna get better
You know who you is, you the greatest rapper ever
So now the pressures on him to prove that voice right
Some people never know they goals, knew mine my whole life

So now his turn's up fixing up to bat
Pitching singles to the label when I use to pitch crack
I never learned to rap, always knew how
Ever since a nigga eight, knew what I would do now
When I turned twenty-eight they like what you gonna do now
And now a nigga thirty So I don't think ya'll heard me
That the last ten years I been so fucking stressed
Tears in my eyes let me get this off my chest
The thought of no success got a nigga chasing death
Doing all these drugs in hopes of OD'ing next, Triple X