I haven't a clue what you were tryin' to do, but it wasn't to fuse music
Everybody judging off a single i ain't even pick
Our history that they stole, africa
Finna go to the strib club make it rain nigga
Of finding myself as an individual
When the truth is, i be just tryin’ to make it equal
Called that bitch my quaterback, wild cat all that
You are still kitsch, tryin' to make an ill hit,
Get busy livin' or dyin', the decision i'm tryin' to make
That'd be the day his label treat him like a signal fade
While you tryin to make a living, picking wrappers.
I'm just tryin to get back, to what really matters
Turn a problem then make it a few
I don't wanna damage you
Ain't tryin to be your god, just want to live my dreams
Life's a trip my nigga make sure you lace your sneaks,
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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