Virginia Sin

This my bubba chuck 01 season, left hand wrist cookin
Like I played up artesia, young Jesus, wit a Puerto Rico
Forgive me lord
For them times I prayed that white man could jump
Like Billy Hoite, null & void, unless ya cash is king
Said the ungracious queen, her next nigga work cut out
Make sure her bags Celine, I really rose from up behind the stove,
that spot you never cleaned
& gave my all in both sports bo knows my legacy
Looking through pics, of old friends who since have turned foe
No raching out, cus 10/1 i always kept a firm hold
Hailing from where you lit th blunts on a gas stove
& trapped the pain away, until the rap sold, my hood love me matter fact,
I’m like the backbone
Gill Scott heron wit a trap phone
That kept a Marion Jones to run em back home