son was on point like camelot!
sounds got sirens in high tech volumes!
yeah, he's on point smooth just like butta
workin' on another chess game on the street chess board
played even paid another plastic face
tears at another wake, everyday stakes R great!
high tek tears from a BOLD soul of an old soul
that delivers ol' school rap rhymes like that flava of thyme!
lucky lucy got sun burnt skin when she was in rico . .
damn, or was it cuba?
yeah, she's real BOLD like a CSI miami episode
her bronze body burner buys her gold
yo, but of course this cat rats her out, no doubt!
"damn, son you can't trust nobody"
maybe if I find the receipts of success i'll know what to do
all the lies are true!
yo, she's in love with him
he's in love with her, now
she loves her cuz he loves him, damn!
Q is the informant, thug nigga gone straight . .

I am an oxymoron
-xxx