When it come to pistols, these niggas don't john lynch them
Bigots winning in our evil ridden justice system.
That kept our motherland in chains
And me, cool & dre gettin' high like planes
In hindsight, i think alot of yall should try to see this
Got to pay our taxes, we're in debt? i'll just send lobbyists,
I be way out in cali, got hoes of all types
Divide times, blew this out of proportion with spines
Everything was surreal and out of proportion
They all see my life from a childish position
Got our middle fingers in the air,
Believing the screens or anything there
We blow shit outta proportion,
Wayne scorching, i'll applaud him
But one day they'd be reppin in our clique
You know if you was harder than me then you'd be lead
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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