Without the sound of guns
That was my influence
I won't comply i wont stand by noses bloody as roses
Do you think you'll ever get to the point where you can live
Packing guns, n' tackling bums.
Don’t let me talk about the deal ones
Uh, i'm tryna learn something new
Roses are red and violets are blue
On a wheelchair upon a bed of roses long decayed
And a fist full of money give it to a fifth grade
Back with a vengeance
You can't evade my guns,
I'm in new york now, like akeem and semmi was
Roses grow from concrete, blossom into sweet magnolias,
Artillery weak with guns
Now, nigga, it’s the prince
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