Im outrunning my demons every fucking rhyme i jot
A couple of haters looking, i’m knowing them niggas hot
Hit your block with a glock, blog that
Or 90's, who cares, they're both bad.
To them it's just a story
Rap is music with real substance b
For this, i thank the lord
Now let's go toward your record
The pain, the loss, the grief, the cross.
Inside my heads telling me evil thoughts
In fact, lemme pass the mic to man big t"
Got me shooting at a ghostsome call me crazy
Cowering on my stage to long/
Now that you’re gone, gone, gone
I was born to do the damn thing
Or school and the zero shits i'm giving,
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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