Slinging crack rocks on the clock a paradox
A hell of motherfucking road blocks
While illusions form a picture frame
Well, brenda's barely got a brain
Cookin' in the old pot, turn into the crack rocks,
I'm from a cocaine block, with some plain clothes cops
Am i just a country boy, who rocks
And i'm still hurtin over pops
You pull up in parking lots
And grow up to smoke rocks.
The projects to the urban hood, where bitches pop rocks,
I ain't fucking with kfc but i may eat up the box
Migrating to a higher form of consequence compliments
Cause i'll be honest: i ain't tryna be a victim of the projects
#at #most #fair road of life 'n' #blew away it's #liquid form
They swore that i was all fuckin' nuts like a gay porn
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