Some days he just wishes he could die
When i'm low, she take me high
He disses microphone cause when he grabs one, he chokes
80 holes in your shirt, there: your own jamaican clothes
Thinking he wont goddamnit he will
Dope enough to snort crack and sit the fuck still
As he grew up he got more confused
But radio ain't trying to follow suit
He thinks that he can control
This shit has got my soul
He smoked, she drank, he stoned, she ratchet, he clank.
Know there's a barbed wire that's always in your past
Killer stay uptown, louden va tree
He said he would never leave me
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