To a different state were me and the people like this dont relate
Don't give nobody no coochie while i be locked up state
Thats kool-aid, moutain dew, and cris on you
What happened to the stuff we used to do?
See people to be leaving the cold medina
Play me for a stepping stone then, i land mine, huh
Bring ya soulto tha true, let em know we come through
And teach then not to meet people like u
Like what priests speak under steeples preaching to the people
I coulda swore i was driving pretty peaceful
But that’s just life, where i’m from
We're the heroes unsung
And much good stuff like homemade ice cream
People don't condone what they've never seen
Still stomping the chumps when they mouths get to talking that stuff
Well, you fucking up, and truthfully i had enough
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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