Witness me strapped with macs, knew i wouldn't play thatall you old rappers trying to advance
.started makin stak..killing killing killing killing killing killing raps
No money, power, or drugs,
Good kids make bad grown ups
Money drugs and women seem to be the only the the radio can play! (*white noise sound*)
Then it's back to the corner where we sell cracksome of you niggas is bustas, you running round
And they thought drugs were killing the youth (ha, ha, ha, ha)
My momma a og which makes me a don dada
Stood out like pootie tang
But never once in a gang
That bastard was buzzing like woody so we get it for free
And i'm all out of money cause i bought drugs for some party,
And every night, believe, we gon' leave with somebody
Buying a killing product, giving killers my money, for some honey,
My nigga made it, we just young, living the dream
Is money, drugs, hoes, violence washed up routine
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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