And that was when i was in the eighth grade
Go home a nite to find that my mums brought a crate
Love the game know this is coming from a different place
I can't stand the idiotic ideas of peoples these days
My peoples sale rock, & cell blocks, got us shell shock
I got lights on my wrist that’ll flash like cop
My entendres be tumblin’ while you niggas lack balance
He made me see the truths about peoples lies and their sins
Your mums pussy ill stick to
He ain't give a fuck about you
And have them peoples leakin' like they cd isn't mastered
While niggas flirti'm sewing tigers on my shirt
You too young and you don't know what i'm fightin' for
A stain on the mattress, so your dad is your mums brother
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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