Gonna, alive, alive and you .. with my
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From the jungle, I'm afraid you'll be rumble,
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Home invasions our homies, they murder over a puddle
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They ain't stuffin' their bread and their ten boxes,
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They just stuff in the air with their M boxes,
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Couple ounces is dark, f*ck around there's gonna be a couple foundin' the pot,
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Niggas staring down of your downer,
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He gonna see a few hitters right down in the spring
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Niggas sleeping on a nigga will a man to see
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For a pound wake em up, nigga angel is he
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Mother*ckers, they thinking niggas flows like crazy
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Woke numbers, bitch I had them hoes like shady
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Told me lessons best better be blessed over stressed
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Told me never front on my niggas, never stress over sex
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This is captures stupid ass fast over ..
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We're bringing the text, sing it our death, leaving the message where you sat?
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young .., send shots, make us cars swear it, our raps on it,
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Run the shit to a tongue, curb you hoe nigga,
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Pull the skirt down here bitch,
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Close your mind hoe eat the dick,
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Taking ass niggas can't stand and see me fridge
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As rather see me fight cap to see me live,
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Niggas ain't buy booze their sneaker simps,
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Until they sneakin' picks the minute they see the chicks,
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Worst in this hoes, they spinning last on clothes,
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Fraud ass nigga she get exposed,
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A few run O's, keep something for a nose,
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Have our shit looking like is running in the cold,
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Minute that we hit, bitch I'm running through the low low
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And the last time nigga got em runnin' to the post,
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And the man leaves and they think they get a dollar,
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Ever since I see my brother so I cook up till I father,
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Nigga be the custom, prepare from when arrest come
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-----------------
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Cuffin Season
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| Young Chris |
