He tries to be a gangsta,
I try to tell them i'm one of the
But scum like this worked up storybook gangsta
Play me for a stepping stone then, i land mine, huh
Now, nigga, it’s the prince
Without the sound of guns
But this ain't physics or rocket science
Artillery weak with guns
And she got the bomb, i'm talking tick tick
Remember my guns like a mic,
Hold it..now thank you for silence
But i dont carry guns
Pocket with a cash full of bashful weapons
Not caring for lives, only profit and guns
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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