Heyyy! better daysgot me thinkin' 'bout better days
You phonies is fake you all is tripping tie up ya lace
Or maybe i'll just watch us distribute drugs and lace the crack,
A bunch of fucking wolves and rats having niggers the size of shaq
Hazy chest, i blaze the cess, wonder if you lace it next,
I cut my wrist and play piano cause i'm so depressed
Took the van, went snatch her
Your on fire.. your on fire
Then we cut, look how she say my name
Where's your wealth? where's your fame?
This is known as a classic, yeah that chapped lips crack shit
Dealers lace the rock on vacant plots, forsaken blocks, it,
Your lyres are cheat so hold your pen open your book-let
What the fuck? that's your fucking brother? i ain't with that jerkin' shit
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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