I'm too strong, eight arms sticking to a bomb
To guess the shit im on, im gone
Will it really be that different when im gone
The gang-banging and violence, is the sweetest song
Fuck the cops bitch, if they come up i'll then ignore cars,
I'm an eskimo, nigga, i got cold bars
Hoes row got beans in them
I can hear the cops come
But hates it when im in the streets makin some money
But if you took a second mr. mirror, you would see
Eyes real low, just blame it on the green
Ill tell the cops straight up that im not clean
But shit, get me, i gotta story, follow me, call the cops
She pretty but she insecure as baby-mother scars
Searching for answers, that's human nature, you ain't in the wrong
Go ahead son,you can try and kill me,but when im gone
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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