Was on my grind cause times were harder than a cellar floor
Hit him with the four or the pistol in the drawer
Took a shot, tired of runnin from the niggas and the cops
I'm almost done with splitting the track, at twenty-four bars,
And tell the doc you'd be dead at four
Need i say more out in singapore
But oh i can’t stay away, not never, your my home, home, home
Having sex till four o'clock in the mourn but u still checking your phone
Racing down rainbow road, on my way to the final four
Lot of tough talk personas, they ain’t really built for war
Have you with professional killas, chasing hits
Evils places my piece set in stone like the four seasons/
Just seen another brother buried plus i knew him for years
Bass part beast i start feasting on virtues and scriptures
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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