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letra de dead presidents 4 - big illinois

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might as well pick an aston martin now
rhymes checking out
big dogs checking for me now
i’m on this paper route
running straight ahead, checkered flag, no more racing now
paper plane crowns, now the walls is every shade of brown
harlemtoilegirl, white walls is wallpapered down
black folk staying on our square
we don’t play around

sleeping on my city like its turkey, murder weighed us down

dreds dyin’ every day, i dread sliding o-block
back and forth copping ‘za from the homey right by the co-op
back and forth between what i’m used to, and what i know not
back and forth between what i know now, and what i wanna know…

still hangin’ with n-ggas with short tempers, who don’t wanna grow…
i did a lotta sh-t that you don’t wanna know…

im a star, in a univеrse of hustlers
i got gravity, without no icy rings, with no assist
heavy thoughts, intеrstellar
chasin’ dead presidents…
paper runnin’ out of sp-ce
chasin’ dead presidents…
i’m working with these demons
same devils tried to sever him
several times
(but that’s irrelevant)
scribbles designed, chapels sistine
parra jacket, lulu, machine…
imma shine forever then…
all my jordans stop at, 1 before 15
i’m steppin’ outta line
took 30 out the game, rasheed wallace, balled a lotta times
at 16, my b-tch was red and 20, damon stoudemire…

at 17, i realized a shot was fired
so we ain’t got a lotta time

marathon…

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