1er Jour de travail [Libre]

Marcus etait habillé d'une chemisete blanche,avec son baggy baissé noir,son bandana blanc,avec sa cap New York par dessus,et ces G-Unit,par dessus sa chemisete il y avait un gilet par balles,il avait rangé son 9mm car il est dans la merde a cause de son oncle. Il alla sur la scène et il prit le micro.

"Bonsoir... Je vait vous chanter une chanson... Qui raconte un peu ma vie..."

Light the fire that needs the air)
(I won't burn unless your there)

[Young Cesar]
Yea, I need you, I need you to hate
So I can use it for your anger
You know, its very shit, feel this!

[Verse 1]
'merica's got a thing for this gangsta's shit, they love me
Black Chucks, black skullies, leather Pelle-Pelle
I take spills over raymo shit, I'ma fan
Got through the silver duck tape on my Tre Eight handle
The women in my life bring confusion 'n' shit
So like Nino went new jack, I'll have to cancel that bitch
Look at me, this is the life I chose
Niggaz around me so cold, man my heart dun froze up
Yo the empire on the low the narc's don't know I'm the weatherman
I take that coke leaf and make that snow
Sit back, watch it turn to dope, watch it go out the door
O after O, you know, homey I'm just triple beam, dreamin
Niggaz be schemin, I'm fiendin to live a good life
The fiends just fiendin
Conceal my weapon nice and easy so you can't see
The penitentiary is definitely out the question for me

[Chorus]
I want the find the thing in my life
So I hustle (hustle)
Nigga you get in my way when while I'm tryin to gett mine
And I'll buck you (buck you)
I don't care who you run with, or where you from
Nigga fuck you (fuck you)
I want to find the thing thats in my life
So I hustle (hustle)

[Verse 2]
Yea, I don't know shit about gymnastics I summersault bricks
Black Talen start flyin, when a nigga flip
I cook crack in the microwave, niggaz can't fuck with me
Man my cold Gauge, they called me Chef Boy R 50
Check my logic, smokers don't like seeds in their weed shit
Send me to seeds I'll grow 'em what they need
Them ain't Chia pet plants in the crib that's chronic
And I'm sellin them 500 a pop god damn it
I sold everythin I'ma hustler, I know how to grind
Step on grapes put in water and tell you its wine
If you analyze me, what you'll find is the DNA of a crook and
What goes on in my mind, its contagious
Hypnotic, it sounds melodic
If the rap was the block or a spot, I'll be that potent product
Now get a load of me, flashy, far from low key
And you can locate me where ever that dope be, be gettin money man

[Chorus]

[Verse 3]
Its a hustler's ambition, close your eyes listen, see my vision
Mossberg pumpin, shotgun dumpin and drama means nothin
It's part of the game, catch me in the coupe switchin lanes
Or in the jewler switchin chains
I upgrade from 30 BS to a clean VS
Rocks that I copped from proceeds from the spot
I got the energy to win, I'm full of adrenaline
Play the curb and get nauseous, watchin the spinner spin
I made plans to make it, a prisoner of the state
Now I can invite yo ass out to my estate
Them holo-tips bent me up, but I'm back in shape
Pour Crystal in the blender make a protein shake
I'm like the East coast number one playboy B
Hugh Hefner'll tell you he don't got shit on me
The feds watch me, icey they can't stop me
Racist, pointin at me look at the niggarachi
Hello!

[Chorus]

Marcus transpirait beaucoup

"M... Merci...!"

Marcus laissa le micro et partit dans les loges s'habiller.