Spit that raw shit, y'all some talkative condoms, fall back
Hustle and grind, hustle and grind for this money stack
Now i know a lotta styles, some see
Hustle for dis country money
Just in case a nigga never see that thrill again
All these fake smiles cause my heart a little pain
Dreaming about the cars, clothes, bitches, and hoes,
In front of our building, they was my heroes
Thinkin you're so good cause you got money, cars, and fame,
That god isn't finished with me yeti feel his hand on my brain
Like a small garage in your backyard
Alot of niggas fake who go to hard
I done seen some shit that niggas a call the struggle
No one knows my struggle, they only see the trouble
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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