rap gods

This is the shit that is makin' me cynical

And all the bodies they’ve laid, it ain’t subliminal,

I’ve seen this young’un on the train, i had to pick his brain

Thinkin you're so good cause you got money, cars, and fame,

I've been used for trade and laid by soldiers against my will,

My high school girlfriend dykin', my side bitch ain't take her pill

And even though we seperated, you said that you'd wait

24's on that escalade and ya' chick in the back, gettin' laid,

You're in the kitchen trying to fix us a hot plate

Then i'll get laid and it feels fuckin great

And i park cars i don't pay for the meter,

As i coordinate the perfect feature

They talk about the foreign cars, bitches, and the finest clothes,

I be staying at the roosevelt more than marilyn goes

I don't care about the nice cars and shoes with the leather,