I put a condom on my heart, i don't be feeling shit
But i got these shitty jobs, and look at me, i’m educated,
Stopping me from being fluent , end up dead like a nuisance
Cuz she came back with the kid and yoi been payin ever since
We're barely making dollars at our peanut jobs, close to me,
With the blaze a your bluntsand you can picture thoughts slowly
And every day my mama drifts jobs like she's sleep-walking,
Hold up now don’t get it twisted, i ain't hating, do your thing
Im end up dead and in a hearse,
They ain't say that then they wouldn't be haters
Im cleaning up these haters like my jobs to hold a mop
Baby you summertime fine, i'll let you get on top
We're working nine-to-five at different jobs, around the clock,
If i'm getting geetchi i can rock three chains on either block
Do you want to end up dead?!
My god come before this bread
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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