But with the thug life comes
Lately been writing poems
They call me better now. see when everything is stopped
And the door is unlocked, i wake up gagged by russians with guns cocked,
Wishing that your life will end but with life you just living
Tryin’ to bag a brother with a super bowl ring
We got stripes in my city, ain't none of my niggas yankees though
Is that sweat coming of your brow, think you can play with the guns click clack blow
With my guns your get antiquated
As deep as dawson's creek and shit
The root of all evil, is sorta like the roots new sequel
With this shit comes evil and of course the guns, the ones that are lethal.
Artillery weak with guns
These chalance give me balance
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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