1985, I arrived. 33 years, damn I'm grateful I survived. We wasn't supposed to get past 25. Joke's on you, motherfucker, we alive. All these niggas poppin', I was young. Everybody say the music that they make is dumb. I remember I was 18. Money, pussy, parties, I was on the same thing. You gotta give a boy a chance to grow some. Everybody talkin' like they know somethin' these days. Niggas actin' woke, but they broke um. I respect the struggle, but you all frontin' these days. Man, they barely old enough to drive. To tell em what they should do, who the fuck am I? I heard one of em diss me, I'm surprised. I ain't trippin', listen good to my reply. Come here, lil' man, let me talk with ya. See if I can paint for you the large picture. Congrats, cause you made it out your mama house. I hope you make enough to buy your mama house. I see your watch icy and your whip thorn. I got some good advice, never quit torn. Cause that's the way we eat here in this rap game. I'm fuckin' with your funky lil' rap name. I hear your music and I know that raps change. A bunch of folks would say that that's a bad thing. Cause everything's commercial when it's pop now. Trap drums is the shit that's hot now. See I've been on a quest for the next wave. But nevermind, that was just a segue. I must say, by your songs I'm unimpressed, hey. But I love to see a black man get paid. And plus you havin' fun and I respect that. But have you ever thought about your impact? These white kids love that you don't give a fuck. Cause that's exactly what's expected when your skin black. They wanna see you dab. They wanna see you pop a pill. They wanna see you tat it from your face to your heels. And somewhere deep down, fuck it, I gotta keep it real. They wanna be black and think your song is how it feels. So when you turn up, you see them turnin' up too. You hit the next city, collect your money when it's due. You gettin' that paper swimmin' and bitches, I don't blame you. You ain't thinkin' about the people that's lookin' like me and you. True, you've got better shit to do. You could've bought a crib with all that bread that you done blew. I know you think this type of revenue is never ending, but I wanna take a minute just to tell you that ain't true. One day them kids that's listenin' gon' grow up. And get too old for that shit that made you blow up. Now your show's lookin' light cause they don't show up. Which unfortunately means the money's slow up. Now you scramblin' and hopin' to get hot again. But you forgot you only pop cause you was ridin' trends. Now you old news and you goin' through regrets cause you never bought that house but you got a Benz. And a bunch of jewels. And a bunch of shoes. And a bunch of fake friends. I ain't judging you. I'm just tellin' you what's probably gon' happen when you rappin' bout the type of shit you rappin' bout. It's a faster route to the bottom. I wish you good luck. I'm hopin' for your sake that you ain't dumb as you look. But if it's really true what people sayin' and you call yourself playin' with my name, then I really know you fucked. Trust, I'll be around forever cause my skills is tip top. To any amateur niggas that wanna get rapped, just remember what I told you when your shit flopped. In five years you gon' be on Love & Hip Hop.