• I dream of kerosene,
    And rescue flairs never seen.
    You call this place home?
    Let me show you what home is really like. (So follow)
    Me.
    Down the road so you can drop your quarters in the pay phone.
    Dial, Ring, let the operator sing...
    Melodies you've never seen.
    And now, as you walk down this street with these puddles of kerosene,
    Beware of what I spit,
    Cause this s**t be flammable,
    And watch the sky, cause like those flairs,
    they wont stay high forever,
    Like anything, anyone, it has to come down,
    and when it finally does it'll set fire to this town,
    So b***h remember.
    Rasper...
    Rest in peace Roc city,
    this s**t was was meant to drown.