Born to be an ugly brainchild, born to be a no-name flame-spitting beast in the wild;
Once in every each in a while, known to skydive off a highrise, cheat the reaper and smile
Born in the 70s, born to rip melodies, born to be sworn to refuse to admit felonies
Born to swash-buckle, I got hustle. Yeah, born to bag b**hes, they stay on the co*k muscle
Born to rise, born to perform and storm the skies, born to be sworn by those foes in disguise. Those who despise, born to rock huff chewbac fill a shoe box with those rolls of the fives
In other words I was born for the ride
We all born to eat, sleep, sh**, meet our own demise
I was born to smoke those, get high. Bottom line I was born to spit poems, split domes and die. Bye
[I'm tired of this]
I was born dead; but still born Doron Lev
Born to send EKGs into code red
Born to be a bilingual bullet-dodging blockbuster, belligerent no-good boot-knocking beer guzzler. Born to be a dollar-stacking record-selling fella whose record's telling the illest tales of jungle dwelling legends
Born to poor immigrants with more vigilance than a pack of renegade rebel war militants
Born in the southeast with a mouthpiece for talking sh** to police, pounding on beats
Born to make money hand over fist, born to take money, make tourists hand over their sh**
Born with a chip on my shoulder, on the corner, spitting in my bib with my spliff in the stroller
Born to sh** on half of these clowns, defy gravity selling out to full capacity crowds