Fuck the source, i'm on cover of rolling stone
The food made by your hands had a blessing of its own
And thinkin 'bout it, i'm goin and gettin another one
And the impact of these actions, a moral atlas assassin
But five years from now i bet she see
Connecting with the community
Ive had rough times made bad decisions
I never fit in with them light skins
A rebel tho, i dont hold my lips
The sword, i reek of poor decisions
Because your booty mad thick behind them juicy ass lips
Tired of the same old vision, unmotivated decisions,
And every night, believe, we gon' leave with somebody
Its getting crowded and i had a bad week, and kids are stepping on me,
You killed the nigga, i stole a bible, is that a sin
Had cyphers and battles on the block, random kids passin' by mockin'//
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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