| They shooting hammers, burning candles on that side walk
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| Holy Mary, this shit is scary and these guys bark
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| Revolvers and automatics for that side talk
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| Take everything to heart, so nothing slidin' dawg
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| So if you reach make sure you squeeze it off
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| These little niggas don’t get books but got that Nina Ross
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| Educated by niggas that be teeing off
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| Trained behavior in my city of 30,000 wolves
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| And money be the root of it all
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| So we running in your crib or we roofing your ball
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| Big bullies with the long fullies
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| Leather jackets, Bape shark hoodies
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| It’s a struggle but we make it work
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| It’s a short on job, so we taking work
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| Ask my homie how he doing
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| He said he freaking hurt
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| His mama just passed, he trying to find the church
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| So I sent my condolences and a half a purse
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| And what’s worse is his kids don’t care
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| They didn’t know their grandma so why should they be there
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| Is what they telling him at least
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| And I know that take a piece of his heart
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| He try to play it cool, but I know he play it hard
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| Can’t think of much to say, so all I do is nod
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| Tell him to keep his head up, and his faith in god
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| Lord knows it’s a struggle
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| Just give us freedom
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| 330, MMG, Blue Collar Gang, Ohio, Massillon |