power trip|pop smoke.

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"'Cause I had dreams for you, thoughts of a ring for you
Childish shit, you know childish shit
Anonymous flowers sent, you know coward shit
Now a nigga signed to Hov, took a power trip
Back home I'm grown now and this city's my throne now
The same clubs I used to get tossed out
Life got crisscrossed, totally crossed out
'Cause now I'm in this bitch and I'm totally bossed out
Old chicks cryin' 'cause they know that they lost out
But I'm still on you, I'm still on you,"

"'Cause I had dreams for you, thoughts of a ring for youChildish shit, you know childish shitAnonymous flowers sent, you know coward shitNow a nigga signed to Hov, took a power tripBack home I'm grown now and this city's my throne nowThe same club...

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Bashar Jackson's point of view.

"I make a call and it's war." I watched myself lip-syncing in the camera. I watched as I showed off my new Automar Piaget's on both my wrists, waving my hands around. I held my gold and diamond chains with one of my hands and moved my pinky finger on the other, to hang out the side of my mouth, showing off my rings and gold grills.

"We up on the board, and we all living lavish," I sung, spreading my arms wide. "If I want it, I'm a have it."

I was in the process of shooting my new video, in my old hometown for my song named 'War', featuring Lil Tjay. We were both sitting there watching the playback from the scene we just took, judging if it was good enough. We've both been shooting this video all day and I was hoping we were going to end soon because I got other shit to do. Hoes to fuck.

"You like it?" the director asks us.

"Yeah, I'm fuckin' with it." Lil Tjay says.

"Facts," I say calmly.

"Cool so, my people will edit this scene and all the other scenes we did today, and we'll send the final video to you and your label and we'll go from there," the director says. I nod my head in agreement.

"Alright, everybody!" the director exclaims, "It's a wrap." For some reason this caused everyone to get less tense and more conversations around me to happen.

"Alright bro," Tjay turns to me, "Thank you for letting me be apart of your song and video and shit." He lifts his hand, waiting for me to dap him up.

"Nah, the pleasure is all mine." I put my hand in his, making a loud clap sound. "You know us New York cats gotta stick together."

"Word two. But, listen I got a show tonight and I got to do Mic check and all that, I'm goin' catch you on the flip. Hit me."

"Bet," I say. I watch Tjay walked off and thought I should do the same. I say my Goodbyes to everyone on set and hopped in my car.

My (Rolls Royce) wraith to be exact. Yeah, being a rapper had its perks. From the bitches, to the jewelry, to the parties, man, life was good. The fans loved my music, which was told from the sales of my last mixtape. And if the fans fucked with it, the label did too, and if the label did, then that was more money in all of our pockets. I have no complaints, it's like I'm on cloud nine right now, and I'm sober.

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