Sometimes the nostalgia hits me in the mouth, like a hurricane hittin the fuckin south.
It's Nati on the mic instead of the tables, I roll em big, while you spittin' fables.
This destiny is gettin the best of me, so I'm steady smokin' them trees.
Like this vested time is a wasted rhyme, I'll pull the scrilla and yell check out time...
to be continued..