Parthia is a region of north-eastern Iran, best known for having been the political and cultural base of the Arsacid dynasty, rulers of the Parthian Empire.
The name "Parthia" is a continuation from Latin Parthia, from Old Persian Parthava, which was the Parthian language self-designator signifying "of the Parthians" who were an Iranian people.
Parthia roughly corresponds to the western half of Khorasan region in northeastern Iran. It was bordered by the Kopet Dag mountain range in the north and the Dasht-e-Kavir desert in the south. It bordered Media on the west, Hyrcania on the north west, Margiana on the north east, and Aria on the south east.
During Arsacid times, Parthia was united with Hyrcania as one administrative unit, and that region is therefore often (subject to context) considered a part of Parthia proper.
As the region inhabited by Parthians, Parthia first appears as a political entity in Achaemenid lists of governorates ("satrapies") under their dominion. Prior to this, the people of the region seem to have been subjects of the Medes, and 7th century BC Assyrian texts mention a country named Partakka or Partukka (though this "need not have coincided topographically with the later Parthia").
In America you'll never be free
Middle fingers up, fuck the police
Damn, can't a nigga just breathe?
Braveheart, still QB's Finest
Grinding, enough diamonds to change the climate
Not only do you see a nigga shining, you can see a nigga breathe
Jewels enchanted like they was new from Atlantis
Cruise with the hammer, jealous heart, they can't stand him
Haters are scandalous, damn, can't a nigga just breathe?
To all my niggas getting money in the streets
Middle fingers up, fuck the police
Light up my trees, and I just breathe
I twist 'em, baby mama beef victim
Chronic leaf hittin', all kinds of heat with him, wisdom
From pot to piss in to high position
Intense hustle, it's pain like a pinched muscle
'Til it rains and my Timbs stain my socks
'Til I dodge enough shots, and the presiding judge slams a mallet
And says life I'ma guap, then I cop
Then I yacht, Then I dock
Island hopping away from nightmare holders
Or cowboy slingers who shoot up any club
That see they names ring loud on some FBI poster
Must be on Ex or he coked up, suggesting I post a
Bail, I'm like yes, 'cause we soldiers
We just getting older, in time, we still in our prime
I can't afford a new arrest on my folder
Nigga breathe
I'm fresh out of city housing, and have too many options
Pennies on a pension or penitentiary bounded
Plenty henna in me, envy was simply they trend, see
My enemy was every hater that was bigger than me
The high life, the fly life
Pierre Hardy, imitation of Christ
Ice-wear gaudy, since '94 flossy
The Lex was an excellent choice, now fast forward me
The pestilence of the ghetto informed me
As a shorty, to push nothin' less than a 740
With fresh linens, sip Pellegrinos with Airs on
They sick, mixing they water with airborne
Oh, they so sick!
Look how I got 'em going crazy, look at that!
You gotta let it out, stress...ain't good man
You gotta breathe
Breathe...
America, we gotta be free