| Hold up, don't get me started
|
| I cannot beg your pardon
|
| I'm not too keen on talking
|
| But I can't hold my tongue
|
| No more, I'm a failure at home
|
| And on road
|
| It never matters where I'm at, I'm gonna fold
|
| No hope, no goals
|
| I'm fading slow
|
| I gotta get back to my zone
|
| Back in my mode
|
| Where I was born, made gold
|
| And made more
|
| Molds for these rappers
|
| Then I thought, like "Oh no"
|
| Don't move, razor in your face 'til your body grow cold
|
| Hold up, don't get me started
|
| I cannot beg your pardon
|
| I'm not too keen on talking
|
| But I can't hold my tongue
|
| No more, I'm a failure at home
|
| And on road
|
| It never matters where I'm at, I'm gonna fold
|
| No hope, no goals
|
| I'm fading slow
|
| I gotta get back to my zone
|
| Back in my mode
|
| Where I was born, made gold
|
| And made more
|
| Molds for these rappers
|
| Then I thought, like "Oh no"
|
| Don't move, razor in your face 'til your body grow cold |