This is a song about "Can t think of lyrics"

Good think i can spit or i'd be sinking to a life of poverty

It's difficult to let it goi'm startin' to loose my hair cause i worry

So many of you can think you're nice,

Living in a gangsta’s paradise

Yeah nigga!ay, but peep how my nigga syke do it to you

I can think of a sicko that'd do that, i know a few.

Just because i look hansome don't think my lyrics are rubber.

Pray for peace with the babies, they a beast in the summer

Raised in this whirlwindour childhood years, recall the tears: heart laced with venom

You can try and read my lyrics off of this paper before i lay 'em

And the v12, that's on various trips

Do you approve of my lyrics?

Like a chick who can t cum if you cant write hot bars then rent one

Bout to plan a 211, murder your partner he'll meet you in heaven