I'm sick of seeing ghetto-grown kids who nearly fight to death,
Didn't make it through college, still debating my progress
So while you worry about the hoes
In a cycle of death i'm killing gyros
The certainty of death is gradually increasing,
I was fiending for the meals; i ain't talking burger king
Then later we can elope
Instead of giving them hope
Of my world and i hope,
Ever since then i had no job
I hope she's blessed and her mom copes with the death
The best is that which i accept and nothing less
I stare in your eyes in your final moments of death
Eatin nubo dishes, with my soul food princess
I'm sick of seeing ghetto-grown kids who nearly fight to death,
Body holy water blessed, i'm feeling the stress
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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