I went out to the corner all the homies hanging out
I like my women soft-spoken but the weed loud
High: that's why they call us planes
Our minds to heavens gates
I dislike the stress /never got in to fights and bled
Threw the sack to his lil' niggas workin the set
Come close, catch a contact, i got a loud pack in my cargo pocket
It weighs heavy in our minds and is part of the decision when we make it.
Trying to get out and around
Y'all be in love, like the howard crowd
This stress is tough to cope, eatin and showerin wit a roach, both ways get the view
Hoping that the material possesions can materialise to a better you
Those with the most thoughts are out of their minds.
Uhh, addicts arise, when i arrive
And if someone sayin that to my homies we hit em with right hooks
Check me i be jumping out the coupe, swagger through the roof
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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