And i'm the type of muhfucka that'll share you, shoot
Wake in the morning, its storming and my mood's improved/
I phone home to the real they wanna know just how it feel
Priest tried to fuck me in the ass, for a record deal
Two click-clacks and a burst in the niggas , they be scared and be running with their tears
(hook) mess with the south homey thats a dream,hallucinating or imagining x2
Attack raps with the knife in the back
Came home shit is real niggas still in the trap
Don’t want nothing from a nigga; he all kinds of lame
Shouldn't give up and be burned in the house and claim
British troops intervene
And i put you on the team
The say they're heartless, but i feel them when they show me love
Light a cigarette to burn the cash and the problems
Drawers by bad broads whenever the curtains call
To be fought, not finding refuge in the ones they adore/
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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