Try to hide, you'll bite the meth and cyanide and fight to death,
Body holy water blessed, i'm feeling the stress
And now the chance of my death increases.
I ain't used to it, she got that hot love
‘bout that money probly like a fucking robbery
All we got now is crime, death, sickness, and poverty,
Nearly broke the guys fuckin arm and got kicked nearly to death
With my semen and oppressed by my give a fuck less
And i'm a hit'cha wit the blow of death
Used to catch us on the roof or behind the stairs
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