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Music is like magic there’s a certain feeling you get when you real
and you spit and people are feeling your shit.
This is your moment and every single minute you spend tryin to hold on to it
cause you may never get it again.
So while you’re in it try to get as much shit as you can
and when your run is over just admit when it's at its end.
Cause I’m at the end of my wits with half the shit that gets in.
I got a list here’s the order of my list that it’s in
It goes, Reggie, Jay-Z, Tupac and Biggie, Andre from Outkast, Jada, Kurupt, Nas and then me.
But in this industry I’m the cause of a lot of envy
so when I’m not put on this list the shit does not offend me.

They say music can alter moods and talk to you
But can it load a gun for you and cock it too?
Well if it can, then the next time you assault a dude
Just tell the judge it was my fault, and i'll get sued
See what these kids do, is hear about us toting pistols
And they want to get one, cos they think the shit's cool
Not knowin' we're really just protectin' ourselves
We're entertainers, of course this shit's affecting our sales
You ignoramus. but music is reflection of self
We just explain it, and then we get our cheques in the mail
It's fucked up ain't it, how we can come from practically nothin'
To bein' able to have any fuckin' thing that we wanted
It's why we sing for these kids that don't have a thing
Except for a dream and a fucking rap magazine
Who post pinup pictures on their walls all day long
Idolise their favourite rappers and know all they songs
Or for anyone who's ever been through shit in they lives
So they sit and they cry at night, wishing they die
Till they throw on a rap record, and they sit and they vibe
We're nothing to you, but we're the fuckin' shit in their eyes
That's why we sieze the moment, and try to freeze it and own it
Squeeze it and hold it, 'cos we consider these minutes golden
And maybe they'll admit it when we're gone
Just let our spirits live on, through out lyrics that you hear in our songs
And we can

вот пишу, и бальзам на душу. как-то про эминема не получается нормально потереть. вроде все слушали, наизусть всё знают, а только начинаешь говорить - попса, такое не слушаем.
мы вот тут с вами сидим щас, а с нас весь форум орет