Scramble like randall if john randle was trynna get him
Tryin' to find a way out of the ghetto, searching, moving, climbin',
And that was when i was in the eighth grade
Go home a nite to find that my mums brought a crate
From the womb, my newborn child
Find a way to rewind
Since nino, g-money, the carter, and the duh-duh man
If only i could find a way to go out with a bang
Stop it, i'm hearin' the comments
Trying to find some friends
Hustlin in our hoods , slanging nothing but the goods / street to street you will
A bit of fame is what im trying to find,so i can sit back and take a pill,
Its been a long time comin, i should hang with you
No way out, u trying to find out what to do
I'm steady trying' to find the motive
So i guess that's where i hide my things
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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