So Damn Down

Good evening ladies and gentlemen

Thank you for coming out tonight

To join me and my friends, the Rap Pack

Von Martin, Donny Davis Jr., and myself, old Brown Eyes

It's the Cincinatti-Brooklyn Rat Pack

But there's no mobsters, champagne, or stacks

So if you think that I

Live it like a tie

Put down the rap books and take a look into my eyes

All that I can give to you (?)

The fans say I'm not feeling you

I'm better off un-digable

You sort of get the boo

And (?) critical

And easily forgetting you

And now the fans are feeling ooh

But when the temperature rise

And you get a little flame

Get a little fame

They didn't wanna know you

Now they wanna know your middle name

Hot damn how'd I get into this game

I complain about this, complain about that

But its no turning back from the grind

'Till I make what's mine

I've already made my mind up

Now its time to climb up

The shine high up in the sky

Sunrise

Don't hate my crew

'Cause we get so damn down

Yes, so damn down

I got the gift of gab

But having swag isn't dissing me

You ain't saying jack

Word to Questo, (?), and them

They play the tape when we was Moonlighting

Or more like when we

Ain't no know better than

Hoping shows get to them like no dose medicine

Open doors, let us in

The game ain't a gentleman

Even see a veteran and wonder what it did to him

Listen

All God need is us three

Life's a party

Yall I.D.'d but not we

And probably

Still online while I'm grinding

Logged on while my lungs (?)

I'm loving the hate

That's just how we relate

Let the fans on you critics

I ain't trying to debate

On demand, so you get it automatic, no wait

Damn downs how I get when there's a lot on my plate

See this go around

I'm going around any obstacle

And giving the popsicle to critics and hospitable women

See I could use that as a diss

Or use that as a gift that comes after a kiss

I can slay ya mafia style

Or slay ya like (?)

Horse head in the bed, soon as she's waking up

When Von's on the mic, lyricism ain't a issue

Soon as I write it down they write it up

Simple

I used to get paid by the week

Never got paid by the streets

Now I get paid by the beats

That's a fancy way to say I'm broke as hell

These rappers man

They your Myspace (?) quick

But ask for a dollar and its "Man that's a grip"

I be right back

Thank God I can jog while (?) the track

'Cause I'm the main one that know what to say on the track

So we out