my whole existence has been cold and frigid
sitting wit bosses since '65, not a sinister type, jus living my life, one sip at a time
the lonely witness with the gold appearance and boldest spirit since midas died
i've rode wit niggas in drive-by's as strays find lives of only children, the driver side
high fives, 40 chillen but unknown to them, homie skydived on his co-defendants
i know where the blow was sitting after the drama died but never going to prison
fucking alcoholics crawling cuz crack is calling, makes a perfect match to entice my vibe
i cant separate the violent hype, my soul was to be sold to vending if the price is right
i'll phone addiction in verizon time, boasting victims that toast no limits, all pride aside
i've entered broken homes, visitors saw shit, tension thick as a malt head, growing foam
son leave the urge alone and keep me out ya face, fronting, being a burden to these hoes
is it my fault, yea...but i aint saying nothing cuz to keep it "800", you learn to hold ya own.
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get high. write rhymes.
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