Brings alotta joy buggati boy thats lane to lane
Move from the past to the present on the train
I have those scars on my wrist that no one could see
Got me shooting at a ghostsome call me crazy
Move from the past to the present on the train
I turned into something they never became
I´ve got those scars on my wrist that nobody can see
Lips, hips, hair drips down her back, crazy, body frame, crazy
I have those scars on my wrist
I am just an artist
The mistakes from my past still chasing me, like theres no turning back
That i never had, but wrote it in my raps to make you mad
So while you worry about the hoes
My block stay hot my wrist stuck on froze
They say the money talks and bullshit walks
My gun your scars, your wrist your calls
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