The first time I was homeless was when I went to Atlanta. I was in a homeless shelter, then when I got a job I used to miss the curfew for the shelter. So I ended up sleeping outside in the streets.
The radio is just a stereo like a house ain't a home.
The bar is so low in rap - mediocrity is king!
All my dreams are coming true all across the board for some reason.
What makes me different from everybody else just boils down to dissatisfaction.
My pen is an artery, my heart is a fountain