For a pack of cigarettes
So, shake ya plats, shake your dreads
They ain't hard, swear to god. these niggas ain't real at all
I'm the definition of sadness and bawl
My music feeds on sadness and rage,
You see i promised that i'd never change
Bodies break down and still smoking cigarettes,
Thats my surroundings in compton, have common sense
I know you get lonely when i ain’t home, on the road
Of cigarettes, cancer sticks, almighty fire with no smoke
No more fucking cigarettes lit, no more stupid ass presentations and useless magazine ad bits
And everybody grieves, but still nobody seesrecollect your thoughts don't get caught up in the mix
Them haters wishing they could see my demise
I looked sadness dead in its cold eyes
And we way too young to know love, maybe not but we don't need no rush
It was a few chords when i was bored, and it cut through the sadness
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