Lotta rapper thugs talking bout bitches, money trees, and drugs
And all we lack is communication like service sucks
Gotta understand the truth. we is all king's 'round here
Rappin' real, and because i got thugs, i'm packing steel,
Back to the slums packed with psycho savages and thugs
Can we take shots? what's your flavor? flat drinks we call a cups
Only thing between me and your bitch is a latex
Of you wannabes rapping bout thugs,drugs, and sex,
Theft of a man's chest it's like gangs test and exams
Lyrical manslaughter off you and your mans
Two of her friends strip she never judge them though
We bone em like thugs n harmony nash em and go
Daddy left and momma started hangin' with thugs.
Ho, slut, no love, turn beef to cold cuts
Me and kweli come together like two pieces of metal
See these little thugs grew up and thought there infinite potential,
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