Born

[Intro: Ab-Soul] Turn the music up, turn the music up (Python, where your tag at?) Man Yo, ayy Man [Chorus: Ab-Soul] Hahaha I was born underwater with three dollars and fifty cent I'ma get rich or die tryin' to find a dime, huh [Verse 1: Ab-Soul] What goes around comes around, full circle I'ma cut my own TV off before I go commercial Huh, right in time for the revolution I'm the new Gil Scott-Heron, double dare you to test the movement Unless you prepared as hell to fail Comparison is the thief of all joy This is not a den you wanna lie in, don't even try it 'Less you're Soulo, ho, the prophet Damn, Daniel I mean the Vans Off-White like Virgil had somethin' to do with it It's gettin' easier than shootin' fish in a barrel with all this bait I set Shit, they gettin' desperate for restitution Do the damage I do to amateurs Who never cease to embarrass us This shit been rigged since the Pilgrims hit the Americas Motherfuckin' opportunists Who literally made a killing, maiden Thanksgiving And John Smith sold Pocahontas into prostitution [Chorus: Ab-Soul] Hahaha, bitch I was born underwater with three dollars and fifty cent I'ma get rich or die tryin' to find a dime [Verse 2: Ab-Soul] Went from splittin' optimals with NFL's lil' bro Tryna snatch the durag off of King Rich head With Legend in the Solara, bumpin' J.R. Writer Or Ghetto Fabolous, in the suburbs in an ave labyrinth Beats in a beaker, uh, I mean a speaker To traveling internationally Due to the craft that I mastered passionately The Black Lip Pastor (Ayy) Casted out of the pasture for Happening to be a black sheep, baa That's all, my flipper's cracked That's all I— yeah [Outro: Ab-Soul] Expeditiously You smoke crack, don't you? Soul I'm sorry, big bro I'm so sorry