Well its the pain and suffering that's stabbing me with a knife
If you see us in the club, we'll be actin' real nice
Gangstas dying from day to day
And all of that was okay
Suffering in this mental prison that i'm stuck within,
So get your glass lift it up in the toast position
Stop the suffering and discomfort and try to take reign,
Knowing you shouldn't think that way and trying to freeze your brain
See embraces, fall short on the numb tips of street entrepeneur fingers
Wars all the way, every day people suffering from food and water dearth,
I'm done thinking, this ain't enough drinking
And dying every second im living
Know that it’s god working
And i'll enjoy your suffering,
Because that booty mad thick behind your juicy ass lips
Foolish children (stuck in a box) like clueless chickens
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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