Before this rapping, i was trappin', getting work cheap
And the only ending will be me dead on the fucking street
Rolling down the street in my suv
Safe sex since you say you not a groupie
More money that mean less sleep
Yea we hard on the street
Walking down the street i got jays on my feet nigga
Got all the black bitches mad cause my main bitch vanilla
Chasing for the wind but you never win the track meet
You should keep an eye out for who's around on the street
Blind fucking hate inside my heart, guaranteed
Got my j's on my feet as i'm walking down the street
I cut my wrist and play piano cause i'm so depressed
As i lay down on the street,begging for help
I see the kids on the street
I’m way harder than the concrete
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