We have nothing in common
That's when it really gets fun
I don't know, obviously i disappear
I roll with real gangs stole 'n steal grams make a bitch squeal
Barely breatin believin that the world is a prison
'til the thrill of killing animals was no longer fun.
I'm cutting off your fun
Yeah i ain't done
Wear out tracks, let me do my thing, i got 16, for this roscoe thing
U'll get shot by gangs of cops for attempting rhino poaching
The mirror's screaming at me saying i'm emmi lola's son
The chase has begun, one tonne of fucking fun fun fun,
I done put them percs down, think i'm 'bout to relapse
‘cuz they choose colors of bloods and crips in gangs,
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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