Niggas from where i'm from they don't fuck with fights
All you need is clean shorts and some nikes?
And maybe one day his kids, something that he'll live for
The cargo youc arried at this point was going to stop your
Forever hop cause it don't stop... on my block
You fall low on cargo until you come to a stop
The world looking out, they on the front row
My great brain, the freight train, loaded up with cargo
And if you disagree, suck a couple pimple-covered dicks
Drugs hidden in my shorts, fill the street corners with kids
Dub a.l.e., still a son of a gun
Your shorts (errahh) yo check it son
Dude with a mullet bussin shorts wearing flip flops
Now my watch fruity colors like trix in a box
Get him a mauri flow, from the mauri show
Then i left the hood, like fuck it don't need the cargo
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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