By a brotha who was hopeless
I'm fucking getting people to notice,
Fake people who waste space and shot guns
But this ain't physics or rocket science
I fucking hate this job
Call this the money shot
Too many situations, too many people getting famous
I hear you callin' me to come back, i'm a sucka for love
Too many people around me getting put in a box
He probly clockin' double shifts on all of his jobs
I'm optimistic like playing keeno with all that you got
Else the police getting called and somebody getting shot
Seems like you hating on the people getting cash
If it's wet enough i might just need a wine glass
When life gets sour know i still devour
Shot fired from the shot tower/
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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