Give her that d i'm outta 8 mile
Finally finna find a child's style
And i ain't got what it takes
Chicago days, lake michigan waves
I pack more soul than chicago packs guns,
Pocket with a cash full of bashful weapons
Smoking on that weed, straight from chicago,
And true i’ve seen better times cause i’m getting dough
Style getting anarchistic, shudda ate supper
At least i'd be stable, yeah, slightly less popular
I know you like my style
It's real dog, i live in the fire
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