Untitled
• Written by Cash
Look, I'm trapped in this game, feeling out of shape
These cold streets got me hidden under the shade
Days never turn out to be like what you expected
Thats why I got that tool up, I stay protected
And I don’t know why you fuck boyz can’t see
I'd rather stay stress-free, then make my mind bleed
Trynna push me forward, I might need a therapy,
Seminary's like another form of slavery
I wanna live in the place where there's no poor and rich,
Sun on the spot, summertime on a beach,
Fuck all the hassles and foes, who knows
One day I might murder and end up on death row
Raised in the gutter, where all the stress never go
Maz got lil dough but I gotta make more
Gotta cop a kush but bitch, I'm barely rich
Stranded in the dark, gotta build a bridge
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About the Artist
Cash
Member since July 22 2013