Ya don't know what i've been through do ya,
Shoes, louis, prada, groupie blah blah
But dont go in raw
And thats all because ya
Rapper who favors and funds ya
The science and the art, africa
Homie i gotta stop ya,
Is written in our souls, africa
Sniffed a lot of flowers, but how could i cry
I'll detect ya wearing ya grandmothers sweater i
My philosophy is rocks and weed, a partna lean, the glock will squeeze
Ya full of ya self, get ya cock out ya mouth before ya jump in this beef
But do ya know what fuck ya!
Cause i ain't mad at cha
I ain't, mad, at cha
Dont make me tomahawk ya,
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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