Money and fame; hell of a mixture.

Been missing for a while, now the time for me to chatch up

Sipping up juicy spotlight, shaded by money trees,

Groupies posing for pictures, shots from a selfie steak.

Light, cameras and action can't lurk my misery.

Watch my dollars go stack up, can't hide my nudity

Stock in the frame with Razzi under lightening shots

The price to pay is dirt on me, rumours on every block

Spoiling my legacy, the real can stand the test of time,

Responding to the call of destiny, steecking to what is mine.

Some say they sold thier souls, my story to all is known;

Blew up straight out of the basement, check out my body strips

From roots beneath the gutter, I'm the truth in all the lies;

Runing the world like athletes racing around my home,

Faking the real as gimmicks, strippers in video clips

Dancing to music's rhythm, twerking thie' heavy hips,

Cutting my visions shorter, view from myopic lens

So tommorow's never certain, worry 'bout how it ends.

Get the money and fame, problem is how to keep;

It's a struggle not to never blackout, to some it's just a gift

Real stars never sparkle, they shine delighted gleam

I'm slaving the roots of evil, though I'm a saint in all my sins

Picture my face on billboards, my name in hyrogriphes

A model for all to watch, fulfilling the prophecy

Of the street' son rising to dominate the industry

Of enemies clothed as friends sipping up hennessy,

Waitng for the right hour to laugh at one's defeat.

I'm standing my gard on two feet, watching on my elites

Like a lighthouse up in the sky beaming my road connects.

Headed for fame; the lamplight speaking dollar dialect.

Of all I learned in life: money can't make my soul rich

Neither can fame guaranty my soul eternity's peace.