Famine, war, sickness and disaster
And i'm not bragging, i'mma be in her
And i don't run counters no more
But fuck with me, boy, that means war
Keep it aggressive, peace don of war,
And i'm all that, hit the passenger door
Whether in the desert sands or the depths of detroit,
You niggas under cars you should be unemployed
With 80 racks in my pocket, nigga i go in all night
You know i wont desert you, we stick to each others side,
Will i ever win the war
Up in my new two door
Flyer then the rest of them, still got my nike boots
The holy war, the spiritual troops
Come and get us you prepare for war,
Might as well, mix it up. im a fashion whore
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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