Breathin' slow, ghetto air makes it harder to say,
When i step off the curb, then, they on they way
It say it either or im doing me
Your wrists don't glist, get the pots out baby
Carol city or was it the west
Just to say it with my chest
It is breaking me down, no more friend around
How many times i got to say it for it to count?
Hittin it twice for the listeners an get em to say
So if you see us in the club, go on and walk the other way
You be get up on this fly shit baby
I grew up on rap dawg, you could say it raised me
But what else you gonna say to bitches who say to end it
Swallow the cinnamon, i'mma scribble this sin and shit
So hit me with them cups, ron artest stepen jackson, yea
Y'all better listen to what me and the kid say
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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