Rasta on my wall, bob marley my idol,
To make karma come faster than she normally will
The possibilities endless, what to expect, i'll stop this killin spree, fuck it, who's next?
But you gotta be meticulous, to get these critics and cats to bob their heads,
He looked up, "body-builder macho-man" for his profile,
I'm rappin' for the scholars and the hustlers, meanwhile
Metaphor, chilling with better whores
The pain, the loss, the grief, the cross.
The feds introduced the drugs, all the acid, the dope and smack,
Everyone who left me for nothing tell em to call back
You made me wanna
I bring the heat like the
Got me thinkin' 'bout better days
The streetz is aint the safe
That's making your head bob even if the music was muted,
Unless it's steve harvey's buff sister trying to jerk my dick
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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