I'm on my grind feeble, my music is either
Put bills under the mattress to turn me to a dreamer
I wanted a brother my mother i told her
I work well under pressure, catch me on the measure
Forearm with my gang name, that's an old carve
Sitting in the hay while i'm watching all the stars
And i'm still hurtin over pops
Imma look at the stars,
After our battle ill meet you out the front and you try and go me
I know when you're coming babymy tongue got you going crazy
Scii ain't aiming for the stars
You pull up in parking lots
Lock my heart up, this is jail, throw away the key
I withstand the truth that is under me
And when you look up at night you'll see me in the stars
I'm from a cocaine block, with some plain clothes cops
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