Away the tragedy, so i stay sucker free
My right brain is full of fuckin drugs, left empty
Walking with an empty purse
If i sent my dad letters
Kush, baby mama-less; yeah no seeds
I kept runnin through the streets
Now i'm living out my dreams
You're walking these streets,
I'd rather sit empty in shelves
We can never be friends
No time to plot retreats
Cops won't look in the streets,
Get grand slam fans out of they seats
Played our beats on the streets
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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