Then never touch it, like your goatee it's grown for years
Then they continue working, forgetting all their fears
Without the sound of guns
I'm working on four dimensions
I'm trying to clear shit up, and make sure my concerts working,
Me i'm like a young simba i can't wait to be the king
Miss hard working, shit spurt mess.
I'm hoping i confess
Maybe i'm on lust well you deserve love
Working for an nonpaying business.
But i'm not really working the corner,
Niggas who be rapping how real they are
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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