Wears his jeans below his knees
And all my childhood memories
His hearts throbbing, he's got his mom in his thoughts
So i went down south but i ended up north
Prps cover my eight’s, uhh, lemme switch my pace
His conscience can take him to his grave
Praised his homie for his quick handedness
Say a grown man can separate lust from love
Ahead of his years, ahead of his time,
Chasing money in the city of crime
And if you disagree, suck a couple pimple-covered dicks
Using his music to steer it, sharing his views and his merits
His only escape for his fuckin pops split,
I'll roundhouse you into a fucking basket
Though uncalled for, they gon drop them
Ultimately his decision,
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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