The World is Yours

Whose world is this?
The world is yours, the world is yours
Its mine, its mine, its mine; whose world is this?
I sip the Dom P, watching Gandhi til Im charged
Then writing in my book of rhymes, all the words past the margin
To hold the mic Im throbbin, mechanical movement
Understandable smooth s*it that murderers move with
The thiefs theme - play me at night , they wont act right
The fiend of hip-hop has got me stuck like a crack pipe
The mind activation, react like Im facing
Time like Pappy Mason, with pens Im embracing
Wipe the sweat off my dome, spit the phlegm on the streets
Suede Timbs on my feet makes my cipher complete
Whether cruising in a Six cab or Montero Jeep
I cant call it; the beats make me falling asleep
I keep falling, but never falling six feet deep
Im out for presidents to represent me (say what?)
Im out for presidents to represent me (say what?)
Im out for dead presidents to represent me