All Aboot the Bordens

Whuddup doggs.

I'm comin' atcha from Ontario - West Side.
Law school all star - fill ma momma wit pride.

Straight up, this ain't no idenity crisis.
Student, gangsta - jus' two of my guises.

I'm layin' down rhymes since this aftanoon,
I was eatin' lunch in a greasy spoon.

All you can eat, Sushi ya know,
Homeys Drew and Hanna Oh.

We was chillin' all shootin tha shit,
testin and assessin a judicial writ.

Talkin bout the bay street firms,
after we finish five more terms.

"Rappers and lawyers ain't nothin but twins,
We's all all about tha Benjamins."

Hold up that's right, but you got it all wrong.
In Canada we sing a diffrent song.

Franklin's ain't on our hundred buck notes,
so I wrote a new rap - and I quotes:

"It’s all aboot the Bordens baby
Uhh, uh-huh, yeah."

For real, that's just the chorus so far,
Completed lyrics in Res Ipsa Loquitur.

Word. Peace Out.


"Straight up, I's gonna be jus' like Biggie and Tupac! ... uh.. 'cept less, uh ... dead."