Usually turn out to be the fakest ones
My spirits dead, like who killed all of the bishops?
With cash that i couldn't spend, countless carsan addict for a wife, my life, as a ghetto star
Felling like lost, remembering my ma,fuck em those spirits,who say i can't live in far,
When i arrive the whole town gets sunny
And the economy reduced my quality
It's the rap monger, rap monster earl sweat attack, conquer
I spit quality and quality rhymes bred within bronner
If you don't know, maybach is the clique
Reconcile with the quality words we speak!
Sun up to sun down
Through the walls these ghosts drown
My level of quality is solid yours is wobbling/
So they quote me and love me like i’m a poet or something
Seeing ghosts from the past
Fucking hoes, no strings attached
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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