That's why i keep my pistol when i walk the streets
Within my mind i strive to succeed and drive my dreams
Givin' 'em a wet, welcome to the house of pain
Celebratin', pop a cork sip that smooth champagne
They're pulling your sleeve, don't believe
Silenced, nothing is peachy keen, and so dreams,
While im dishing out all of their wishes and burnin em faster than niggers in
So both of our imaginations are creations of the fucking situation
And i'mma show you how the south was won
And some some of my wishes that i dream on
And reflect on the rap game, i came
So prepare yourself lets pop the champagne
Shit, if i was old enough to speak
Hopes and dreams not all gonna succeed.
And champagne poppin' every night, y'all don't understand?
My parents went away on a week's vacation and
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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