It’s a neighborhood where nervously i host black friends,
Came from humble beginnings now its nothing but ends
Until then my death is a rushing mystery
And i don’t know why you fuck niggas can’t see
The death that bloats like a disease
Kush, baby mama-less; yeah no seeds
My friends put me to a real test
Rare shit, trend setting yea i be the best
So i, i stack paper and keep it ghetto
I'm on a death row,so death is a bitch i know
Two chains, two guns, he bipolar
Forgot to say his friends with a soldier
To the 'r'. ruin niggas hopes of success
Drivin a hearse, re birthed, through death,
Took me a while just to write those
In a cycle of death i'm killing gyros
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