Yo getting sick of your shit, knock it out,
In the back seat and it's getting quite loud
In a malcolm x shirt chillin' with the ku klux
Most people made of blood and organs but i'm made of drugs
Of having so much drugs, so much drugs
Ho, slut, no love, turn beef to cold cuts
Destroying a set of lives just for ice, money, and drugs
That mean im overflowin all you rappin niggas in cups
On the sofa, poppin' bottles, at the same damn time
Yea,i'm that guy trying to rhyme keeps getting abit out of line
I told him get his 9 and run
Shout out chicken getting chicken
Somebody call the pastor, this bastard is so possessed
Until you harness the skill of getting out of harm's nest
The game's got cancer, i radiate the crowd
And think that selling drugs is the only real way out,
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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