Damn, what time is it, got my keys in my pocket, I got class in the morning, I'm about to head out of here, to the laundromat...

[Verse 1: Moruf]
She said she want to be an actress
Finish off school, getting established
She was a fan of my blackness
But fucked with this Al B. Sure looking n***a, the wackness

I learned that one man trash be another man's treasure
One man pain be another man's pleasure
However, my n***as steady grooving like Costello
But they shooting down my dreams, shit I'm feeling like Coretta
When Martin got hit on the balcony
Make moves don't say what you about to be
You tweet pic-ing saying how fly your outfit be

Damn, that's not even lost in translation
What are you saying

Bump a little Illmatic, switching to that God's Son
Cooling with my brother Los, chilling with my godson
She on the rebound, Rodman
Whole city depending on me, it feel like Gotham
These n***as tryna finish me
I wonder damn, is this shit meant to be