That's gon' make it hard to smile in the futurebut through whatever you see
And then there's only one other homie, but he has a hard time believing me.
And louder than a microphone that's slightly near a lion's den
But nah fuck that they was never then when i needed them
Sometimes they go in alive but they then leave dead,
While everybody got ammunition on deck
But can i really call me one when i talk most to a host
Righteously living, i know all my verses be cold
But then they end in defeat
Mmg and that's my clique
They work to death, when they come home, you dont even have a plate
Petey pop off, rip, free lou, been lootin’ money since like fourth grade
It's never late, we celebrate soon as your papers done
Since i'm in a position to talk to these kids and they listen
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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