Why am i back to shooting up again?
I've seen dreams turn dust, cause he made them
Pose, click, pose, click
Remember my guns like a mic,
Gangsters robbin', shooting back, mama's sobbing pedals,
Hasheem thabeet and various other peoples
Shooting down moms and wives
Got a flock full of dimes
My nomo could be found in stores but the jersey only nomo got
Lucifer's shooting ya, crucified on crucifixes and the awful lot,
Not caring for lives, only profit and guns
The capital punishment, the loud police sirens
Now, nigga, it’s the prince
We bustin' like shot guns
Now it's 6 2's on closed curtains
Artillery weak with guns
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