Is money, drugs, hoes, violence washed up routine
And some of the stuff i tried to do they had never seen
Hit strip clubs find bitches with big butts
No money, power, or drugs,
But still i was a bad-kid who did alcohol and drugs.
Stay gold, stray old, maturing means that your life sucks
I'm out bk with these fast girls and all my cash good i miss slow bucks
Most people made of blood and organs but i'm made of drugs
It's about niggas and bitches, power and money
Surrounded by drugs violence and sodomy
Money drugs and women seem to be the only the the radio can play! (*white noise sound*)
Then it's back to the corner where we sell cracksome of you niggas is bustas, you running round
Drivin' my impala and selling drugs
In a malcolm x shirt chillin' with the ku klux
All around theres death,drugs, and rape
If i die before i wake
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