Yeah you know i got that work
You thought you got thug life mastered.
Let it rain let it flood let a crip kill a blood
Middle finger missing so i can not give a fuck
Swearin', he can save memy stratagies official
But my words are weapons, my pistol pistol
You're lonely and depressed you need a thug in your life
Temperatures risesniggas blinded by my lyrical disguise
Killing our dreams, stealing our vision
Telling me that life stinks, he craves a gun;
I feel it in my veins like blood ecstasy and life
Let me enter your life, lady we can spill our rice
Yeah, one time for the
He tries to be a gangsta,
Can i meet that, where you be at, everybody try to beat that
Catch, me chilling wielding the heney like pac on some thug-life shit
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