But i be like for real, just pick up that phone
I was so young, raised in the streets of fort smith, homegrown
Pack it up thirty minutes to the jet leaves
Follow the yellow brick road, stroll down southern streets
Hitchhike on the side of yje road amd and act real hospitable
Don't fuck around and make it truemy adversaries crumble
Tryna kill my dreams
Betta stay outta the streets
From the streets of nyc to clubs playing the beat
Blind fucking hate inside my heart, guaranteed
Streets became home to me/ like a mother to be/ the streets
To me playing in the game is worth more than the seats
Who life was for music and the road
Ever since then i had no job
I said believe in your dreams
You can't leave the ghetto streets
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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