This is the best poem in the world Burbans and Lacs, mansions and bitches, money and weed A made life is all I dream, paper chasing for that green I'm thugging on the scene, nigga Whatcha dont believe, well check the credents, they'll tell ya A niggas living presidential, I'm on the level that you bustas will never feel My daughter thought I'd get caught up in the game and get killed But reverse that shit and hit the studio and make a mill For real, I'm slanging platinum shit until I'm old and ill Lil' Gotti, I'm gonna make you feel what I say, I got time to parlay Chill off in the bay, smoke some hay, I wouldn't have that shit no other way The made life, the game tight, No Limit for life
I regret to inform you, but this poem by RZA is the best in the world. Yo, Check the mic line for wire-taps ...we're under attack, man your stations, take aim, proceed... Fire back, all hands on deck Cadet, Vets, insert cassettes Tracks snap heads like berettes Catch web sites like Internet ...team, I detected vehicles approaching from the East... Pass the infrared binoculars Captain so I can see Sound the alarm Call for the suicidal kamikaze ninjas with the bombs Flashes of neon, all we saw was flying arms Anytime I come by, alumni cut short their air supply Send 'em back like George McFly
