For thinking you clean
Brotha lynch may be mean
Reading shit my critics say
Plant, grow, harvest from june to may
Neither black nor white
While he may be outta sight
Plus 11-99 in his muthafuckin' chest
And we may not be perfect
You know what? nigga, it's blacc friday
Plant, grow, harvest from june to may
Gotti here, i’m in this shit
You may think i'm obliterated
And truthfully girl you really make my day
Remember that day on the 25th of may
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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