TALENT OF THE HOUR

Nigga, I'll die bout my fuckin' respect Pops was born in 68, now he hang on my neck

And I carry him in spirit when it comes to a check

Money good when they come to collect She say she always pray for me, that's the

Type of shit I expect And for my love, Semper Fi, I'll fight to the

Death I got pain in my heart, but a pep in my step

I been dancin' with the devil, but I do it the best

God body on my fist, ain't no Mitchell and Ness

But when I die, you can tell him that he came from the west

With some food for your soul, all she wanted was sex

And some tunes full of gold, rubies, diamonds, baguettes