Chockin' until my last breath, to a memory that was slashed
The walls i couldn't break em or take em apart with a tank
I'm the definition of the memory from better times,
I'm not saying to go out and do some stupid shit, commit crimes
Worldwide, but i got fourth ways, one hat carry like four blades
‘till i die of exhaustion, and all your memory, it fades,
That's because thats these compton streets was built not to win
Don't contemplate or lapse, pay attention, sense the frayed tension,
But if you took a second mr. mirror, you would see
When company turns to memory due to jealousy
And a nose full of chowder, he's choppin' up all the doubters see
U might not've heard of me, if i don't serve u in memory
A photographic memory, i'm never gonna lose
Ain't none of my niggas crip, and we giving niggas the blues
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