I had this reocurring dream of the flow and island breeze/ All these independent women, oh they keep on finding me/ I ride thru the Wild West where the shots and sirens scream/ Double holster on my chest cuz in the ‘Raq it’s finders keep/ Thru the nights to the days then the days to the nights/ I been livin as a sinner but I’m winnin, guess I’m right/ Cold as winter master splinter from the sewers to the fight/ I’ve been broke, I’ve been richer than Richie’s honchos on a kite/
