600 benz, condo six hundred grand
But hes dead so you cant
Slicing throats sending bloody remains in envelopes to cope,
When i be speaking they be geekin' like i'm giving bitches dope
Through my music this is how i cope
My balance be so tight rope
Uh, the only hope i had was selling dope
Diminished the hope and struggled to cope
Third world, else hell bomb ya, why cant
Just hustling you understand
Yeah, rack, rack city shit
I cant fix i cant glue it
You can't open up, my crew, y'all can't cope with us,
Four out of five try to fake and get serious
Roll the whole mountain, now i’m on the couch bent
I need to cope with the stress, praying i hope for the best,
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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