The mainstream is selling out, giving their bodies and souls,
Best stay away when the door closed, i show up with four hoes
Beaverton my sneaker game although i never be with ducks
Most people made of blood and organs but i'm made of drugs
The way she walks and causes a fuss
Drugs, sex, killing and lots of madness
Stack up your funds like a million bucks
We're just teens but thieves and fiends, slangin' drugs,
And other times i could only settle my depression with rapping,
If everybody play their position, we can win this thing
I spit that garden of game, look at the hoes on him
Dealing in depression, murder and lyrical impregnation
Probly from selling or doing drugs
But most times darling the sequel sucks
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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