Then the blood drip on the floor poison pieces
I've enough problems to deal with
Lately been writing poems
Everybody have's small problems
Thought this was forever love
Mo' money, mo' problems
I'll cut you with my wiper blade, you better have financial aid,
That'd be the day his label treat him like a signal fade
Tell 'em about your attitude problems
Don’t let me talk about the deal ones
99 problems but a disk ain't one
Grab a nigga and take me to heaven
That's why i shine like i does
Lets just say i had problems
I told ya he aint right that niggaz got problems
Stay gold, stray old, maturing means that your life sucks
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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