Gone with out a trace when i deliver coup de grace
If he don't show up, think i can take his place
Without her making attempts to garner all of my attention
They want the money and the power that's just the world we living in,
World on my shoulders as i run back to this my childhood
And that’s a scary thing, i try to duck em good
That i never had, but wrote it in my raps to make you mad
I'll terrorize the cul-de-sac, rappers, i ain't holding back,
Cause i got a lot of hair on my booty but that's beside the point
Motor city's gritty, clowns like you get bent and then de-stroyed
Lord, forgive me, as a kid, i used to look at niggas jealous
And i can see our world is dying, money and power's changing us
Re-directed de-ci-sions
I only got four minutes
Taking over the world while the money adds up
Fuck a cold sore, getcha getcha own cup
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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