Not caring for lives, only profit and guns
Pocket with a cash full of bashful weapons
Whips ain't shit but my kicks look sick
Remember my guns like a mic,
Aimin' at his partner who know he up next
I painted a crime just for the feds
But most times darling the sequel sucks
Packing guns, n' tackling bums.
Artillery weak with guns
Now it's 6 2's on closed curtains
Mr.ronald mcdonald face-painted clown on the ground
A smooth criminaland though i pack this pound
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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