Ex-boyfriend was wack, she had enough of all that
Social revolutions, staying focused to do shit
They need work, the freaks here makes their knees work
Know i meant, every motherfuckin word
I watched people i know pray and catch the holy ghost
Bottom row of the bronze and gold social ladder, bother? don't
Your fuckin’ neighborhood doesn’t determine your social class,
But anyway, give me cash fag, cause i'm low on gas
People around are doing their work
No rubber sole, hardwood bastard
What the fuck do i say to psychologists and social workers?
And ain't it shameful, how niggas blame hoes for givin' birth
The stress and all the social work, makes you wanna go berserk,
Riding that big body, shorty be hitting the curb
And you believe when a rapper wan' be one
She had few friends, because her social skills were none
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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