That's why i keep my pistol when i walk the streets
Freaks mangled, steel shackles in confinement for weeks
Kush, baby mama-less; yeah no seeds
Life seemed empty for a couple weeks.
I'll be dead in a few weeks
All that ass in your jeans
I've had so many maladies- been sick to death for weeks
Yeah you laughing my nigga but everything ain't what it seems
Gentrification, rent just keeps raising in days and in weeks,
But all she ever want me to do is unzip her jeans
Trap our young black seeds
But these days turn to weeks,
Without your love it's cold as fuck
Waiting for me to fuck up
Pardon me if i'm sweating you but
Waiting for me to fuck up
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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