See, they don’t understand me, I’ve been through him, and him, and him, and then come at ‘em again/ I know niggas that’s in the pen, and figures for you and them/ Evil creepin’ on my people, chances is slim/ Be married to the music, boom! Hit the stage, ready to die for it, cry for it/ Cut the games, many tried for it, lied for it/ Get a catchy chorus and fly for it/ Take orbit, let gravity be your fortress tonight/ Elevate your brain, hold your heart and just sing, cause gracefully we age through all the pain/ Sentiments in rain/ Evidence of it’s heavenly thangs disdained for my explanation on ‘cane/ The fame was the sum of our money, chained in a murder, murder shame, with a pistol and a pissed-off bang! Well, then let me finish with thug love/I’m off to hit the club with the bud and the track/ Hit the mud, keep the gun, it’s my first love
Tell me what you see, you see ... (It's Supervision yall)/If you look into my eyes