Biggie died March 9th, I was born on March 10th The greats never die. Get the idea? much thanks. Fuck tough raps I'd rather hit you with harsh facts Like how hard work doesn't guarantee you success And over preparing just only leads to much stress Or how most smart men barely ever touch wealth Even though they plough earth till their last breath Don't get me wrong, I ain't say pray for a fast death Or stop trying, just that fate will have the last word Our hard sweat will fall, our bodies will all hug dirt I didn't mean to harsh your buzz or to kill your vibe You know what let me revert back to these rhymes Let you plug back to the Matrix, ignorance is bliss It's all chicken wings and grits and reality is a bitch [Chorus] Round and round we go Up and down we go For dear life we hold on Another couple of miles we hold on Uh Chuck Norris, Jon Hamm, myself. Born on March 10th Delta Force, Mad Men, dope raps, oh much thanks. See I thought of an intricate written to be spitting In a sickening rhythm that'll have you very smitten Then I started thinking about this world we live in Whats the mission, the reason we're even breathin' Has us heaving, and spinning like fans on a ceiling I mean after all the sacrifice what will be the prize That ultimate surprise, what lies on the other side Would be wild to close your eyes on your demise And just find it was all a ride that goes on for miles No reason and rhyme, no fucken meaning in sight You know what I'm doing it again, pardon my lines Let's not question reality, just drown deep in vanity Enjoy life's amenities, and preserve our own sanity [Chorus] Round and round we go Up and down we go For dear life we hold on Another couple of miles we hold on
