17th of December

Concrete slab's obsolete, rapping on the beat, story ain't complete, speak on death and how I cheat

Deplete money, reserves, good nerves, I felt so unnerved, so I resorted to some drastic measures

To my pleasure, stole the treasure buried in my cousin's bag

Underneath the game controllers and the boxer briefs he had

Deflected my intentions with a wholesome lie and matter of facts

"Hey, where'd you get this bag?"

Stashed the treasure in the back

On the dresser, so fess up, "J, man, have you seen the treasure?"

"I don't really know, I think you left it home on the compressor"

Halted his aggression, no aggressor, talked women then