Bunch of kids growing up learning shit the way that's hard,
I'm feeling like i never want to be apart
The sickest people couldn''t have even imagined
8 in the morning when that street clock bust
I like listening to music in the week.
I'll tell you true stories, how i coldly hold heat
The one who can´t even show a real smile
We can talk things over a little a while
Come take a stab at it faggot, i pre-ordered your casket
I wish i can spread the word of jesus so others can hear it
I bang your mom so hard you can call me a terrorist
Tell the fucking teacher that this burlap sack is filled
None of them wouldn`t understand the message i deliver
And maybe one day his kids, something that he'll live for
So sleep tight as i take care of these recycle rappers
Usually it's the prophets, ask a cat what really matters
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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