(Crocker Verse)
/Here’s a pinch from the solace that I can’t track down/
Looking for a high that’ll bring me back down/ Working up a smile, but for what
purpose/ Now that my life is for your purchase/ Got what I asked for, now I’m
an emcee/ With no degree, broke, and pinching my pennies/ If these the Wonder
Years, where the hell is my Winnie/ On my soapbox, alone, ain’t nobody
listening/ So I crank up the Cee-Lo, Ball, & G/ Paying for the light so the
world can see/ That me and mine are more than the butt of the joke/ Thru these cigarette
butts and bathtubs of dopes/ U-G-K 4 L-I-F-E/ Respects to the kings that relieved
my stressing/ I love New York, but Southern as shit/ Just brash white trash
with a bucket of spit/
(Hook)
/Spin that record, drop that beat/ Succumb to the numb, of which you speak/ Count the stars just as daylight peaks/ And chase that love 'till living cease/
(Background Vocal)
/I'm proud to say, I'm finally on my own.../
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