The white boy sees this as a clearance, now its
Twists it, turns it, beats it, burns it, tortures us in silence
Combine violence, silence, phonetics
A rebel tho, i dont hold my lips
Cause all this pent up rage
You promise that's change
Well, i have a gram cupcake mix
Real gangstas move in silence
By the phone, no call
Is this man alright at all?
What's with all this fire,
Said when i do dirt wit her
Maybe later on i'll give you a phone call
Its all political this vote between us all
Wasting all my creativity in all this complexity
If you try to hang with me you should finally truly see
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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