I'mma conspiracy theory rollin thru makin history
Paintin perfect pictures ain't never worked, my misery
Man i was born in the 5-0-2, where cops don't come thru/
I'm talking ambition, i could spell it for you
Im so great you can smell it thru your nose
They disregard me, i guess they all got egos
If your man can't keep up wit you
You just gotta keep pushin thru
Trap our young black seeds
You're walking these streets,
Walking around hiding behind masks
I can barely wipe my ass
Funny how money, chains and whips make me feel free
Creeping thru your window ever so slightly
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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