Yeah my shit ain't no scratch and win
Thought of, cuz it's sort of...an addiction,
I bet you've never seen a pig fly
Of that gangja from the shores of shanghai
Feeling, of appealing
Questioning the whole meaning
The .45 for you niggas with nine lives
Out of this coviction of feelings
Momma in the bathroom poppa at work
Of being of always getting wired
Beaches of normandy.
Six-fifty, three hundred my shirt free
Thoughts of us of everything of everyone's debts
Aimin' at his partner who know he up next
Part of my heart beat, inside of me
Nigga, rap, you fuckin' suck probably
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