We buy guns and more guns, to give to the young
Words are weapons, life's a bitch, teach that bitch a lesson,
Theres a little bit of hell in everyone just waiten to escape
But his deferred, and blurred and changed in shapeit's fate, it wasn't my choice to make
Heartbroken obviously, there's not tomorrow
Searching for direction in a place that has you headed low
Or is he the latter, a gateway to escape
Type of nigga to jerk off to his own sex tape
Guess that's all you can expect form a nigga with downs syndrome
You better get her, i'm totally into my zone
That was the sonic art form of rhyming and poetry, and it is abbreviated in three letters r-a-p
So step back sacrap an resite your rap, come spitting back when ya got something decent not whack,
How come i can't escape from a girl i consider a bitch?
Blow my smoke out the window, dropping ashes on the bridge
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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