whats left
 

from the minute you're born, you're countin down to your death//
an as you're growin you learn, you amount to what's left//
of a man with a stone heart in his chest//
prone to part with bullets when vexed//
releasin anger in the form of led//
decease a player 'cause o' some shit that he said//
what's left?//
emotionless, just a drop in the ocean, lack of emotion, equals lack of devotion//
money'll never be a magic potion//
but the plastic dote on, but the green loves no one//
seem to feel that you above god's son//
money got you under thumb, an when bad times come//
you'll be left static as the money'll run//