My nigga o that's like my bro without the same damn mom
Crack to sweat - not under sun;it's when he play with his crayon.
Rollin' down the street, smokin' indo, sippin' on gin and juice
Ive got neon laced shoes, i used to wear crayon paint shoes,
And just colors until the crayon gets dull in her hand
The walls i couldn't break em or take em apart with a tank
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