There’s niggas dying everyday but we don’t make the news
Cruisin in bottles, lottery tickets, and drug abuse
White streaks on ya face evidence of heart break
Wasn’t bustin’ jimmy, i’d be busy gettin’ paid
And for those who choose to abuse
And i snap like bob backlund in the booth
He fucks you over i'll do more than break his heart
Fed ain't dumb but they sittin' in the cold dark
And that was when i was in the eighth grade
(8 second instrumental break)
And i done seen some old beefs make a bunch of news
Even though i'm a victim of my father's abuse
And start hurting other people with my verbal abuse
Pathological liars even know i'm the truth
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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