But living underground as a friend of the devil,
Forever i ain't run yet and i never will
I'm godbless, i'm success so fuck stress
And i'm a hit'cha wit the blow of death
Young money, cash money so strong, keep scorin’, i’ma bring it on home
All the shit that his dealing on his own, if only he had a friend to phone
If you give up this battle, i might make it a fast death,
She glammed up behind that eyeliner i know there's tears
I'm a genuine dexter, i kill the time with death
Like that's going to make up for the years and the tears
Skin but you my friend look like as if someone peeled off a potato skin.
So both of our imaginations are creations of the fucking situation
Imagination's dangerous, it's the only way to escape this mess
I told myself i'd live with no regrets even if my life comes to a sudden death.
Rocking black and gold stocking caps and fleur-de-lis shockey hats
Help out a friend who's living with the rats and eating scraps
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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