Urban inner-city ghettoes, where you've never got a minute,
That wet wet in my two seaterher nails done, her hair did
Every minute your late goes another client
Homie popped up with about twenty bags and
Listen, i'm fishing, you bitch niggas is missing i got that
Please understand my frustration and sympathize for a minute
Every time i walk inside the house, she always tend to start shit
In a southern redneck trailer park where you ain't got a minute,
Put it on whatever bitch, me and spitta high as shit
Take a minute by yourself to psychoanalyze it,
And it's well known that rell home
But the minute i took out my phone
Spread the word and witness, he rose on the first sunday
But for that brief minute reality goes away,
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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