Gold Common

[Hook: James Fauntleroy]
So we made it to this same end of the road
And we picked up lots of chicks and pots of gold
How I made it out with my
Soul, Ohh, ohh! Ohh, ohh!

[Verse 1]
Ashtrays and cigarretes, last days, indigenous people
These are adventures of young black millionaires
I am the voice of the meek and underprivileged
The smell of success, I want y'all to get a whiff of this
On the move like black slaves through the wilderness
I write it, and still get invited to white Christmases
When I was born, three wise men came to visit us
One a hustler, one a king, one a prisoner
They cracked the bottle then started giving gifts
You from Chicago, we want you to deliver this
Show the walking dead who the true and living is
Separate the fake from who the real reals is
Hot tub time machine, back to the Sybaris
Hats from liquor stores to avoid syphilis
Frivolous spending, drunk nights with storybook endings
I guess it's my addiction to women
I was in France, in to see Hennessy blending
Writing my own scripts like I'm Tennessee Williams
Now it's new beginnings like a born again Christian
On the mic, victorious, story is redemption