Текст песни
Rags to riches
Rolling gas with my glitches
Rubbing shoulders with the wicked
Brake your click down to a tidbit
When I spit its like a pit with out a bit
Or a baby without a bib
The iron Lip the way the fire Rips
Cinnamon skinned things things can your vanilla cream
Chin chilla king, illin like I'm off a bean
Serenate the state with kerosene
My image rides the light beam
What they saw as pipe dreams now became my thing
Me and my queen we're like big brain
Opposite ends of the same strain
The lost tribe
We lost our real name when false idols came in vein
I came to Reclaim my true name
Burn Out, Its your turn now