[Verse: Sean Price]
Listen, it go, Frederick Douglass, Nat Turner
Klu Klux Klan—big, black burner (bah)
Ashtray, cigarette butts
Box-cutter gemstar, watch this n***a get cut
Ten dollars, two tokens
Friends hollerin', "Yo, what you smoking?"
I reply with, "None of ya' biz"
It's Father's Day and I ain't get shit from none of my kids
Listen, liquor store, let me get a fifth
Weed spots, let me get a spliff
Mad as hell, plus I'm frustrated
Last album came out, you motherfucks hated
Rock solo, Ruck broke
Here's a hundred dollars, what a fucking joke
Eviction notice, yo I gotta go
Album been out two months, ain't did a fucking show
Ruckus, you ruined, I put the barrel to my dome
But what the fuck are you doing? Chill
Found a new way to build
Fuck rap, started selling two-ways and pills
When the stomach growls, and the fridge bare
And you starving, and ya' kid's there
It's, motherfuckin' critical, pa
My pursuit of this rap loot is straight trivial, pa
N***as all claim loyalty, yet, they all jet
When they fuckin' with a four dollar royalty check
And if you feel me, act like you know
Sincerely yours, the brokest rapper you know, Sean P