She would throw a pout how i'm showing out
I drop o after o of the loud,
Im a nice guy with a spice of hate just for lunch
Word~! don't nobody talk no more they all text message
U lack the spice, black n' white like bank robbers be
For shootin' done to you or we're losin' money
I bring the spice, it's nice, strife and hype, a trife life,
Living underground like a godfather buried alive
Benny is about to reach the twenty eya-eya o
They all need attention, they call me a g though
But look, she went and dialled triple o
Definition of cold: ice, 30 below
Mother, o my mother
I thought i recognized her
There've been a lot o' rainy days, a lot in my life.
Can't be positive, when the ghetto's where you live
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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