And any connotation is viewed many ways
I've met depression on numerous days
My paper long, yep, you left alone, you gets no fucks
Lotta rapper thugs talking bout bitches, money trees, and drugs
Now it's 6 2's on closed curtains
But i dont carry guns
My entendres be tumblin’ while you niggas lack balance
Fuck rappin' about smokin' drugs, they hurtin' your lungs, tons, of guns.
Dirty rotten nigger picked it from a cotton gin
Enough oppression, leading to depression
Confession! i've never even heard of depression
Snorin' in the bed with blankets cause my head spin
Soon as para finite will paralyze her existence
If you're black, you're always a thug, and you have drugs and guns
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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