The third joint from Prim-Roc (Dj Premier & Sa-Roc)
16 verses 16 Primo tracks!
Lyrics:
Did every black man sell crack, do a bid? Have 4 or 5 women on deck at the crib? Chop blow, cop dough, across state lines, enough heat to catch a fire to their waistline. Its funny how the real king pins state penning, reformed crack dealers turned rappers straight winning. Make a million off a cats name and trademark it. Notoriety's the formula to game profit. Tell a lie and shirk the blame is the new m.o., but let me tell how the consequences really go. Boy sees his hero go from ashy to classy, from trap house to mansion the streets to the hamptons, he hype cause he gullible sell a bag another one. illusion you have sold him keeps his conscience from troubling him. Ass out he keeps his pad out for writing rhymes in, his paper bag stashed in the bush to keep his dimes in.
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