Tryna find the one
The bigger the the fun
Hell yeahwould you kill for me nigga?on my grandmother, nigga
So call the coroner or the mortician for the the
In the field of the damned, the only sentries are the crows.
Boogyin' with jesus and a bunch of nazi hoes
And the thirst, just the worst, it's the curse of the juice!
From where they take them old beats and turn em into news
The choice can be no other
In the heat of the summer,
Know you want me to fall
Where the ball meets the wall
To win today would just seem like a lavish dream
We all the same the blacks the whites the something in between
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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