20 racks really thats sneaker money
These fools tryin' to mess with me
Is that sweat coming of your brow, think you can play with the guns click clack blow
But even when you leave, somehow it still try to follow
And still got my nike boots
Think theyre taking us for fools
I go to war, old timbs, battered boots
For the booked cases duels curb maced fools
Honest, sincere, they seersuckers, lying in suits
Charring fools like barbecue food when i spar with dudes,
Never was a thug just infatuated with guns
And even when you crabby, obey all seasons
With this shit comes evil and of course the guns, the ones that are lethal.
Get a whole lot of you-know and she bald like an eagle
Back with a vengeance
Artillery weak with guns
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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