Saw the bombs on the news
High as shit, i’m in a booth
And the thirst, just the worst, it's the curse of the juice!
That man there throw wale on the shelf and i lose
I’m sayin’ that i know, revealing them most
The more battles the better the flows
Okay today i was the freshest in my area
So call the coroner or the mortician for the the
Somebody tell satan that i want my fuckin' swag back
The feds introduced the drugs, all the acid, the dope and smack,
And erase my number out the phones of these fake hoes
In the field of the damned, the only sentries are the crows.
The pain, the loss, the grief, the cross.
Posters on the wall, posted on my balls
Shit grand like a muh-fucking bass load
Here's the answer and the antidote:
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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