Fast life like born on wednesday and died on thursday
We need to fix these streets, people livin’ in the poverty,
Whipping white and baking soda, at the same damn time
But it’s hard to believe with all this poverty and crime,
Don't make me shoot up this place with light sabers and guns
They grow up in cycles of poverty and violence,
Let me rideuntil i get free
Face palming poverty/
We was dead at our first breath, born into poverty
But if you took a second mr. mirror, you would see
Multiple colors, my mind's more productive than others
Drug dealers live in poverty in gutters with their mothers,
Commence to poppin' motherfuckers copy it fatalefficiently i delete then flee
Korrupt kats that's jocking me, poverty, possibly a oligarchy economy
What them tippers don't see
Breeds from the poverty,
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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