Streets is calling square niggas leave a message
Time and time again we're slaves to our crutch
And i have to say that music keeps me here, by far, the main thing
Perceive the surgical procedure. mechanical beating,
You're so white, my blinkers don't work
Beating chatter, your peak is shattered
Look, she love me from them poems, and them songs, in my zone
Beating him over the head with the telephone
I can hear your heart over beating
I got my wife, so fuck the ring
From the back seat, back seat
Chaos, ordered. slaves, freed.
For beating another misinformed poor stoner
‘cause i’m addicted and you the drug, cold turkey? no sir
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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