my boys

take a minute count the steps fo when you first heard 'em rhyme
they called a spade a spade had four spades in they hands
pedigree that needs no alcohol to get drunk & start fights
cuz marihuana spliffs alone got 'em all wasted rotten
giving a new direction to they creative spirits
might not have had a good start but each day they getting there
they posterity will define poverty by the oxford dictionary

my boys the only authentic ones on joburg city streets
not the dj cleo remixes claiming who hustle with a cheque
the type of crew that throws a party inside a caravan
with fresh definitions to grind copyright their utterances
searching for mo' ways to make mo' cash than yours
booty calls on they celles die before you hear 'hullo'
on the mash for cash tranquility is a catch

they pawn tapes narci'c assets sell they vision for dough
they destination's six figures don't suggest a detour
on a race against time middle age gets you tired
can't get intoxicated by decadence prepared by the shes
i'm selling my lines as if they're bound to get you high
i'm with my boys on this journey & together we gon' fly

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