Thats my surroundings in compton, have common sense
Where the process projects the problematic progress
You're fodder even yet my progress don't stall or
The money gets closer when you seem to be grindin' more
But i'd just rather 2-step, like my first steps
You can't test my best get you're rhymes to progress
I treat arnette like a net when i stop and shoot
(construction in progress, please use alternate route)
Murder for murder, the beef recycled is light
An archetype, always progress with what i write
Fistful of wood, twisted for the good
But that's because my brain works opposite
And that's a better reason to for me to take advantage with sex
Of letting heads progress to zen we're shredding beds and wrecking heads
Just hope it works out well
This is heaven on hell
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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