So bitches hate to do me like it's convict community service
And i can see our world is dying, money and power's changing us
This is no trial, this a closed case
I'm going harder, and changing my pace
No one seems to understand my struggles, troubled and it sucks,
And meetin' mr. folarin could get you cardiac problems
And, i'm sad and alone praying and wishing for my nigga to come home
Are you hearing me right turn the sound up on the microphone
I bring you the key to your struggles and your strife
Niggas couldn’t tell if i was dead or alive
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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