Get ya head bust
My streaks my testament.
To have my name engraved is my crave till my grave x2
Thats my surroundings in compton, have common sense
My wondrous success bombs my regrets
So, shake ya plats, shake your dreads
Homie popped up with about twenty bags and
My rhymes propellers, words my instrument
My nitty bag, my kitty boost
But in reality your just being used.
It's ironic cause i always hear you talking about one
My compulsion/ concerning my transaction in my cabin/
Nothin sweet when i attend, see
My own unknown is my enemy,
This is my original, my validation
Now me, tony, g, and tre got the keys to the nation
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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