Issue No 177 Misplaced King Lyrics
Misplaced King by Issue No. 177
(Verse)
A homeless man had his hand out
He ask me for a dime, I give him a dollar
Seen as somebody's son or somebody's father
And people walk by, man, don't even bother
Well, papa, you got to get up, get on and get something
Cause it's a cold cold world that we stuck in
If you ain't hustlin', my nigga then you lunchin'
Between eatin', I'm done speakin'
I assure you that I don't know you
I meditate to grow you, I live noble
A misplaced king mingling with music moguls