Manahattan and 40/40, no 40’s but rose poured
Ignored the fact that they pressed record
The gun rests in my hands, pressed up to my head,
You know if you was harder than me then you'd be lead
And i'm still hurtin over pops
Her breasts were pressed against my wry palms
I can see your drastic flaws
Black fours red drop head doors
Like i went to sierra leone in a homecoming dress
But i must confess the buttons you pressed was a big mess,
Bitch i am in your head.
Ain't finna peak yet
Where i'm from is a circus hope you don’t expect a fair one
A nuke towards your ignorance, i just pressed the button/
May i have your attention please?
I'm screamin' out fuck the police
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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