We left em a world that's cursed
Money, drugs, and power rule the world,
Your developmental league don’t see a team
Is money, drugs, hoes, violence washed up routine
That the world's in great depression
You're uncool like my mother kin
Through thick and thin
Suicide depression,
Fuck rappin' about smokin' drugs, they hurtin' your lungs, tons, of guns.
And don’t offer least of shit to these people’s opinions
My rapping moves on ,from the depression
And i can't breath when i'm high cause the airs too thin
I'm murdering instrumentals cause i rap with the conscience
If you're black, you're always a thug, and you have drugs and guns
Money drugs and women seem to be the only the the radio can play! (*white noise sound*)
Then it's back to the corner where we sell cracksome of you niggas is bustas, you running round
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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