Man in the turban

Vin the man in the turban

Just trying to get green and the zirconium

I'm just trying to pour myself some sick burbon

Tore my twelth organ just from sippin the liq too quick

Flowin to the beat so just take a seat or its too late

Act like you know how to grow the dough just so I can relate

dinero for a dinner-time debate, till the clock is done


Tick tick tick blow up like a hydrocarbon

Show up in the whip, new car new bomb

Laugh track, like we sitting in the sitcom

Epitaph labeled with my own sick psalm

 

That was when I was ten dreaming of driving in a new Benz

Trying to get some green but I got no bands

Trying to catch the ball but I got no hands

Too much to handle, mess with me again and you get the paddle

 

Not much thought when all you got was a medulla


never lied to ma when we found the moolah

About 3K just left there near the park bench that day

 

living off rhymes is parallel to an optic illsuion

but for now im snoozing until i start my nuclear fusion

im comming to a solid conclusion

I lost the pot, winner took it all, leaving my life in ruin

tune in tomorrow for a follow up,

prob with more money, enough to double up

with the lucid dreams of profits, yup

Pockets finna be fat


even Euclid couldn’t graph that