All the bitches know my name
The realist in the game
I'm in the the real world
But i murder him first
The pain, the loss, the grief, the cross.
Had to get my utmost feeted sleep cause
The good comes with the bad, the bad with the ugly
Away the tragedy, so i stay sucker free
You’re the plastic, i’m the passion and the magic in the air
And i would never walk in the shadow that never was really there
Pass the henn and that ice, i'm on a track with 'pac nigga
Put the grants in the safe, 'cause we spending the jacksons, the
I spitting bars the metronome the money machine
We all the same the blacks the whites the something in between
Hell yeahwould you kill for me nigga?on my grandmother, nigga
So call the coroner or the mortician for the the
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