Hard knocks, son, I got a knot on my head
windows of opportunity locked - so I’m at the front door instead
Paintin the block red, its hot, i bear arms regardless
Wavin that 4/5th like bruh-man from Martin
y’all bastards are jobless with yo momma at home
tommy and cole, my tommy is cold, Im locked in and loaded
Rocking poetry, my potency-extending an arm
A Nickel plate to your dome - then snatch a penny for thought
Henny with no chaser, sporting denim a known stranger
In the end I don’t taunt tho, dont fuck with a lone ranger
The beat is bumpin ~When them shells sing, the bell rings
its hell, mang ~ Have you fearing the REAPERcussions
You ain’t deep nothin, just a bunch geeks cussin talkin that lie shit
Y’all ain’t fucking wit i! Flippin Fine tips dipped in wine ink
It Gets better with age, my every pages’ are private
Discover the hate in my iris. Sunny days are so silent
Lost to the warning call of a storm these bars raging in violence
Cut your cranium open with a fuckin blade through the eyelids
__________________
I remember the poplar trees
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