Times in this crime land, my thug nation
To get that good occupation
Its true that god considers my rhymes a sin
A lot of women is real, some bitches robin given
But then now, i'm a live cat that spit rhymes and i really love it
That i'mma pay for with dimes, nickels and quarters and shit
From hollywood to the hood
That everythings fine, ok and good
I'm hooked on that good stuff
See, i'm just trying to focus
My rhymes are a trapdoor that accidentally traps
Matter fact i am farmer john milkin' cattle tracks
Ship, didn't finish college, shit wasn't a problem
Good luck with that mug of a mutt ya bum, you're dumb
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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