To express my love but i still got hope for someday
I got the cookie-cutter, mami the pepper spray
How you killing my highs i hope you built the coffin
It all started with my mom's ex boyfriend tim
I still got shipments of sentences under my blankets 'n mattress
But i pray these everlasting groupies don't fuck up this love
Like i got an s on my chest i thank god that im still here hes my bullet
Every time i walk inside the house, she always tend to start shit
Though my credits are slept, my ambition the best
These days i try my best, still got a load on my chest
You smell the ounce, i ain't even in ya house yet
Still got my future ahead, should be happy i'm not dead
This crazy lady, call her my baby
Eyes never lazyg.e.d-ing on the daily
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