The Life of ?

I'm high like an attic,

Actin dramatic, addicted like habits

I'm cracking your girl dawg

She croak like a damn frog

Up all night Until dawn

Can't do it with lights on

She look a raw prawn

Salty but no crabs

She's mine now, that's my craft

You can forget it I'm jumping through hoops like a tiger

But my name's not Tony I'm a survivor

I take the weed out and blaze it with fire, I'm feeling lighter, trust me, no liar

Bitch I'm the king so you call me Sire

Talk too much off with your head, choir

Burn at the stake, life is retired, this my empire and I'm the driver with webs like Tony Maguire but wired on heroin coke,

Coughing on poison, bitch toke on that smoke, if I was in England you'd call me a bloke, the lad in Ireland who puts the G in glad but bitch I'm bad, beating my meat, Damn I be jackin, no jackson, I put in hours and then I get racks in

Does all of this track to you? If not it's a sin and I won't pretend to care to repeat it again. Give all my blessings to none of my kin, all of them bitches got gunned up washed out dried and snatched up like lint.