Just cause you change what you pitching, don’t make the difference
When i was little i used to get so hungry i would throw fits
I'm on my grind feeble, my music is either
Walk around the corner, get a flier from a crier/
Now you can feel itit's a potion for my niggas in motion
In the far back near the corner trying to take it in,
Baby mammas on the corner—little mouths to feed
My father's dead, well i don't know, we'll never fucking meet
Thats what i wanted, you to get pissed, single targets out when i intend to diss.
Wants to know why his daddy don't love him no mo'you can't complain you was dealt this
While i sit in the corner
Of impactful things one can ask for
I like my women soft-spoken but the weed loud
I went out to the corner all the homies hanging out
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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