September 7th

[Intro]
Rap tune
Can I make a million dollars off a rap tune?
Can I make a million dollars off a rap tune?
I'm tryna make a million dollars off a rap tune

[Verse 1]
The real is back, the city is back
Flow bananas, here
Peel this back and what you'll find is
Your highness
Can paint a picture that is vivid enough to cure blindness
New York finest, you knew that already
In terms of the greatest, I proved that already
And if you would like, I do it twice
I just sharpen my blade for a minute
Became lost in my ways
This for my niggas that was tossed in the graves
Every so often I fade deep in my thoughts
And then get lost in the days
We used to play before your coffin was made
Just got the call, nigga got caught with a stray
Hope he's okay
Just got paid what Cochran got paid to free OJ
Just to share my life on the stage in front of strangers
Who know a nigga far too well, and that's the danger
Know me better than I know myself
I rip a page out my notebook in anger
And let these thoughts linger, singing

[Chorus]
Don't give 'em too much you
Don't let 'em take control
It's one thing you do
Don't let 'em taint your soul
If you believe in God
One thing's for sure
If you ain't aim too high
Then you aim too low

[Verse 2]
What's the price for a black man life?
I check the toe tag, not one zero in sight
I turn the TV on, not one hero in sight
Unless he dribble or he fiddle with mics
Look out the window
'Cause tonight the city lit up with lights
Cameras and action
May no man alive come through and damage my faction
I brought you niggas with me
'Cause I love you like my brothers and your mothers' like my mother
Think we need a plan of action
The bigger we get the more likely egos collide
It's just physics, please let's put our egos aside
You my niggas and should our worst tendencies turn us into enemies
I hope that we remember these
Nights full of Hennessy
When Hov around, we switch up to that D'usse
Gotta show respect, one day we tryna stay where you stay
'Cause we from where you from
Not talkin' bout the slums
I'm talkin' 'bout that mind state that keep a black nigga dumb
Keep a black nigga dyin' by a black nigga gun
And keep on listening to the frontin' ass rap niggas son
Yeah, I said 'son'
This is New York's finest
For 11 winters straight, I took on New York's climate
Like show me New York's ladder I climb and set the bar
So high that you gotta get Obama to force the air force to find it
Never mind it, you'll never reach that
Campa the hypnotist
Control the game whenever he snap
That's every track, nigga

[Chorus]
Don't give 'em too much you
Don't let 'em take control
It's one thing you do
Don't let 'em taint your soul
If you believe in God
One thing's for sure
If you ain't aim too high
Then you aim too low

[Verse 3]
I ain't serve no pies, I ain't slang no dope
I don't bring no lies, niggas sang my quotes
I don't play no games, boy I ain't no joke
Like the great Rakim, when I make my notes
You niggas might be L or you might be Kane
Or you might be Slick Rick with 19 chains
Or you might be Drizzy Drake or Kendrick Lamar
But check your birthdate nigga
You ain't a God
Nah, you ain't the God (Hehehe)
Nigga, Campa the God
(Campa the God, Campa the God)
Ayy, September

[Outro]
Make a million dollars off a rap tune
Can I make a million dollars off a rap tune?
(*sound of baby laughing*)
I'm tryna make a million dollars off a rap tune
I wanna make a million dollars off a rap tune
I'm gonna make a million dollars off a rap tune