It's about a little peasant who was just looking for glory
And a nose full of chowder, he's choppin' up all the doubters see
Nigga so focused, shout out that ? a quarter six forty
It's about a little peasant who was just looking for glory
Looking for something more,
They fiend in the door
Yeah come holla at your uncle
Always looking for trouble
Fourth quarter, that sack; fourth ward in all black
Looking for cops behind my back
Still looking for his eyes
Hey! what's your name? oh, that's nice
No room for love, just consumed by hate
A 45 trey deuce spade sprayed, you stayed
Our love for each other was about to just about too expire
I’m at the altar sayin’ my vows, to this benjamin franklin pile
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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