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scrolled through her timeline in these wild times, and I started to read She mad at these crackers, she mad at these capitalists, mad at these murder police
Meth lab in the back and the crack smoke pills through the streets like an early morning fog Momma's in the slaughter house with a hatchet helping
Monty Carlo Spittin' over some super hot beats with a super hot freak we call the parking lot hoe You know we sippin on that old brown bottle, bass in
go by and you choose It be something for you What the fuck you gon do Imma just dream it and then do it like King Kush in my lungs and some cash in my
We popped a bottle then hit the throttle all the way up Eighth of fungus, alligators and the darkest hush Turned up the volume on Mr. Anderson
my giving message If you understand me then you understand my message Some of my songs should be in the bible cherish I'm kicking knowledge on these
Ever since I was a kid yeah I didn't know what I did yeah All I need is some belief I don't need your I jus need some to succeed yeah We all by
message Put that shit on she like how I'm dressing She notice me and I'm not even flexing Im not into all the fuckin texting I'm not into all the fuckin
it’s Henny If it’s rap talk, I’m top spot, that’s a Fendi And I be lowkey (Loki), cuz my brother keep a hammer And the police, tryna toss us in
Yo, check it yo, I got slugs for snitches No love for bitches puttin thugs in ditches When my trigger finger itches I got a rep that make police jet
No justice no peace No Racist Police Fuck 12 Fuck 12 Fuck 12 Fuck 12 Black blocks are in the streets in black bloc The streets are filled with
the homies at the crib Bumpin' Pac Div, this the life I live, you ain't know about it Hit the studio with No I.D. Make a couple platinum records in that
My text messages left on read The flowers by your door left ignored now they dead Your lack of care filled my head with dread Now I'm sitting here
I took myself down to the Tally-Ho Tavern to buy me a bottle of beer I sat me down by a tender young maiden whose eyes were as dark as her hair
grind now a young Nigga rich I done lost my mind all these vibes in the V.I.P And we ain't tripping bout no money tell em bring us all the bottles You
for me I'll be dead center in the middle of em Holding bottles of henney Mic in my right wearin' ice like a yeti I see you eyein' my life at the top
Are doing better now? Now that I'm not in your life Or do you cry yourself to sleep and wish that I could hold you tight I'm doing awful by the way I
Let's take a minute To think about Where we been And where we're about to go Self reflection Self Reflection The meaning is in the message 3
I gotta get it by any means I gotta get it by any means Cook in the kitchen I serve the fiends Pay what you owe it ain't nothing free I gotta get
Leave him with his socks, hard bottoms and bloomers on And hang him by his balls from the horn of a unicorn Y'all niggas intellect mad slow, y'all fags
'lone Crack you in ya shit just to see what's on yo mind I'm YoungBoy, YB Kayla with me, yeah she slime Police on my ass, gotta watch the way I'm
Let us go forward together Safe in a memory, a highway passing me by If we ever get off track for a minute then Promise me you won't forget how we
Put your hands up in this bitch This is poetry for anybody that ever gets stopped by the pigs Police In Graves Cause they're mental death using
You may live your life asleep at the wheel, Never to realize the reasons you may feel. Happy or sad, normal or bad, Like a cow in a pasture left only
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