*Words of advice over the phone*

I hear the beat and start crying
It's quarter past 4 I'm on the corner still trying
I quarterback it all, just trying to make my quota
A stranger on this corner so I barely make a quarter back
I'm at the condo with Cardo
Apartment in Parkdale that's where I do my recording
Meetings with Solo, that's my shooter up in Sotto & Sotto
In the 6 but it ain't OVO though
Money Team ain't no squares in my oval
I shine around the world bitch I'm global*
At the shows meeting fans taking photos
Barely making rent off the show dough
Back when I would smoke with Lim he'd teach me how to cope with things
He told me cut the grass and don't you let the cobras in
He could have been Kobe with a little coaching
But on my culture that's my n***a we'll be close again
My auntie walking with a cane
I'm walking through the rain
I've barely got a dollar to my name
Every dollar I would gain, would be the same dollar I'd deposit to the game
I charge it to the game
Baby mama stressing
I'm counting down the days, she told me count my blessings
I'd rather count the paper, mama call the reverend
Like I need Jesus, there's things that need addressing
Like why I ain't got no deal
My baby brother off the pill, I want to fight him that's my blood for real
I guess he likes the thrill
My bigger brother kind of liked it too
He in the bin now and I ain't even writing to him
I got my own problems
I got my daughter in December
It's edging on November
Can't even make the rent out my apartment in September
Been broke since like forever
So if ya' n***a ever hit a lick I can't remember
What the feeling is like
I wonder what a million is like
All my n***as in the building tonight
Ready to make a killing tonight
I could chill or peel a cap, n***a that's life
I could seal a pack, deliver that, and deal with the strife
Or I could stomach that and cry into my pillow tonight
I punk n***as, black punk n***a for life
What's up with n***as?
The cost of living, I know they livid
Sean Leon, the Corleone, my core frigid
*More advice over the phone*

On point with every sentence, like I'm fencing
On guard, so it's offensive when you say I'm next then
Like I ain't Wayne Gretzky meets Bruce Wayne meets Hussein
I got that bomb, I'm 2 Chainz meets Wu-Tang
I'm Pootie-tang when the pistols pop, her pussy came
If you're dissing, don't be sneaking, say my name
I'm from the era of shitty virals and cheapened fame
I fall in love with a moment I'll never need again
I hope I see it with my friends before I see the end
Until we meet again
It's over