Tell mr. hill we ain't trippin, we cool
It was my first year in high school
Rapping rule, back to school
That's the sound of my tool
I'm talkin ideas , motivation
Swift-made switch blades made a big incision in him
Well give me grab iti was born inside a love zonewith a glock-nine young marriage
Fantasizing about the fountains, i have better ideas, why fuck it with college/
It's like we both forgot what we were fighting for
Ideas that are brighter, than any kind of liar
I'm not creative, ideas started leaking from my mental/
Cause every girl i deal and fuck, it's always against her will
Letter to the ghetto, hold your head high
Wet cement open to ideas that'll fly/
Overwhelmed by ideas, thoughts from consumption
And i can't breath when i'm high cause the airs too thin
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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