Not working. shot, choking, broken.
Dub a.l.e., still a son of a gun
I remember shotguns and modest working class homes,
Two big faces on my wrist, boy i got a couple those
Then they continue working, forgetting all their fears
Black on black nikes that represent the lifeless lives
And i have to say that music keeps me here, by far, the main thing
I'm trying to clear shit up, and make sure my concerts working,
Cause i'm sitting here sipping on guinness
Working for an nonpaying business.
Will somebody please show me how
But i'm working on the next one now
To get a pair, niggas killed him right in front the mall
Working through our problems solving em all
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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