Sayin "society had taught me
Third ward general, young cash money
Y'all need to know, you cynical hypocritical critics,
Soon as para finite will paralyze her existence
Critics fear it mystic malicious
Here i go again, searching for love
Two kids, wide hips, found something in her we didn't see
So we blame this mother fucking society
Raising my fingers to critics
The .45 for you niggas with nine lives
Subliminal hint from hipsters and these liberal critics,
Y'all always on that bs and ps i'm takin all things
We're not just some fake wannabe, made by society/
But if you took a second mr. mirror, you would see
And stand up to society,
And losin all his money
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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