This is a song about "Sad with fact of love"

You killed the nigga, i stole a bible, is that a sin

All the women of color i'm in love with your skin

We made love with all sorts of passion

Nah, niggas they dont wanna let me win

Two kids shot while the whole block staringi will never understand this society, first they try

Sad that he had to take his own life to escape this sad life with a pliable alibi

From the palms of jeffrey dahmer, baby mamas said the kicks

Cause whiplash, in fact, i attack with automatics

Stimulating night in club type of fact

Hey, i get bored so fast that they won’t last

Even now i keep a frown when i come arounddon't ask me about tha past

Call me vanilla nothing offends me, oh as a matter of fact

Track of tough love with tattered seems

Get grand slam fans out of they seats

Bitches check on my stats, women get too attached

My rhymes, new york states of minds, lyrical crimes, in fact