My Song Feat. Rival

We party on and on untill the morn
(And no one, can take it away)
(This is my song)
We pouring liquor for our people that are gone
(And no one, can take it away)

I bust a shot for my brother, two for my daughter
Three for my people overseas getting slaughtered
I tried to go to Canada they stopped me at the border
Told me that my record and my papers aren't in order
I said what? I'm a performer
No longer selling those drugs out on the corner
But I do run down with more brothers that wanna
And I live in a city that's hot as a sauna
But I'm calmer, I haven't been locked up in a [?]
So a heckler won't temp me or hinder my performance
My fame is modest here but in Europe it's enormous
When I do a song in Malmö Sweden they know the chorus
They cheer for us, they said so?
You've got a dirty record so you've got to go
So I came back home, hooked up with rival
Made a couple spiritual moves to ease my youte's
To bear my soul, I'm 33 years old
23 years here rapping like Hov and
12 years of generating heat like a stove
I came out with the Fugees, started making lucci
Started going out with them dimes eating sushi
Went back to Polo, went back to Gucci
Went back to talking to those girls that are booshie
They come three for a dollar just like some Lucy's

Man I grew up hard in Jersey nine years after the riots
The first time weed got passed to me I tried it
After that, I chipped in to buy it
Roll it up, fry it, then watch weird science
Way before my crack was hitting the stove
Before DB got clapped [?]
Rest in peace I'm in the staircase pitching the o
Or experimenting with drugs dipped in the stone
Formaldehyde, man I'm fly without mission control
Like a pimp in his Roll pistol whipping his hoes
You can catch me in the streets like a wino
Act up and I'm comming straight at you like a rhino
Man my cocaine white as albinos
I'm the main attraction, you're a sideshow
And I'm hotter than a pyro in Ciaro
When I melt the wax if you put me on a vinyl
Lift up, cock back, blam the nina
Me and my girl get married we like Brangelina
And I make bar music my producer's Jewish
Just like Jon Stewart
Run the streets from the Bronx to Newark
Hit the club same jeans and a new shirt
If it's any beef I let the tool jerk
Or you could get jumped like Q*bert

Yeah, this is for my people locked down
Just know you're still with us even though you're not around
Yeah, this is for my people in the street
Doing what they got to do kids got to eat
Yeah, this is for my people on the grind
No more waiting in line it's our time
This is dedicated to the people in the hood
No matter what city you're from it's all good