What a feeling of overcoming the odds
Youre a cornball who claims to be among gods
This my little brother on my mother's side, our father died
I live in the american south with the racial divide,
Spit up to the gods at gaza..
Coroners comfort your mama
Baby mothers quittin school, nigga now it's up to her
Higher than a leveler, like gods messenger
And when my eyes looking like a nigga tired
This is what the american government has urged,
We've condemned them, locked. in a cell of consumerism,the american dream.
But whatever it is baby hope you pledge to your dreams, forever my queen
So you better fight right for gods sake.
That involve ballpark franks and silver duct tape
And some of the stuff i tried to do they had never seen
As i lie and cheat my way to the american dream
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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