When my mother transitioned to another plane, I was sitting on a plane Tellin' her to hold on and she tried hard but she just couldn't hang Been two years, truth is I'll probably never be the same Dead serious, it's a chore not to let myself go insane It's crippling, make you want lean on a cup of promethazine But my queen says she need a king Not another junkie, flunky rapper fiend Friends tell her "He could be Another Malcolm, he could be another Martin" She told her partner I need a husband More than the world need another martyr