| I’m so damn depressed
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| In south Park, nights are fear, days are stress
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| Brothaz telling me to watch out for they ass
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| Living where cops and dope fiends attack fast
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| Yo, wearing gold one Sunday
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| Punks threatened to gun me, took my shit from me I know how complicated the game get
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| Thinking to myself I’m going to be rollin with the same shit
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| So my job days are finished
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| Why work a week for some shit that I can get in 5 minutes
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| Me and K.O. |
| start to rollin
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| Got to the point, where a hard look, left a punks face swollen
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| Brothaz scared when I pass thru
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| They just don’t know, I’m scared of they ass too
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| So how could I give a positive response
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| Your negativity, created a monster
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| (Hook 4X)
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| Me coming to get’cha
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| Me coming to get’cha (gun shot)
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| (Verse Two)
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| I’m so damn depressed
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| Met this girl, fell in love, with no second guess
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| Thangs seem right for the first time
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| But them quiet ass hoes are the worst kind
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| Thinkin of the things I bought her ass (she was a freak)
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| Damn straight, I caught her ass
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| with a punk I hate, wasn’t no hidin 'em
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| On a water bed in a hotel ridin 'em (yo)
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| Now my next girl payin for my ex girl mistake
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| Cuz I’m thinkin they all fake
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| Birthday and Christmas, they came everyday to me Broke hoes, got nuthin to say to me
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| I gave her the game and she stuck wit’it
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| What’s yours is mine, and what’s mine, don’t fuck wit’it
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| Females who want a positive response
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| Your negativity, created a monster
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| (Hook 4X)
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| Me coming to get’cha
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| Me coming to get’cha (gun shot)
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| (Verse Three)
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| I’m so damn depressed
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| My brother is dead with bullet wounds in his chest
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| I asked this girl what kid to hit, what punk lid the split
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| Stop crying, and tell me who did the shit
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| She pointed at this trick in a blue shirt
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| I looked around, noticed some of my crew hurt
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| Realize their’s nuthin I can do, no matter how much I wanted
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| Cuz this blue shirt had a badge on it
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| (point blank range, point blank range)
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| BOOM! |
| It bust a cap and now I’m layin guts, sprayin
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| Wasn’t thru yet, me and K. O Shot another round, finna killa foe, time to go Went home, thinkin the blood spilt, drown all my guilt
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| And some ice cream and milk, and sit back and built
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| A bomb, outta some shit that MacGyver would use
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| Went to the grid substation, and lit the fuse
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| Death row, my mother my father see
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| That I’m gonna die but that really don’t bother me It don’t matter that I’m young and aint seen nuthin
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| And all the shit I had in life don’t mean nuthin
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| Oh say can’t you see, America beating the shit outta me
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| I’m tired of living, scared to die
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| Cuz nobody wants to help a South Park mentally raped monster |