I slice em, spilling out the blood and gore
They're searching with the hunger for more
If i get a mill it's because of my own hunger
It'll pop out the fucker and puncture this youngster.
Its either a bless or a curse, i cleanse the weak with a breath of my verbs
But poverty and hunger are frustrating, and just know it hurts,
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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