(.:'problmatic':.)
Massive distruction, hesitating masterbation-
spazzing out with red ink in the blu nation-
latino kings, and KKK always be hatin-
punk rockers, kick flippin, chea dey be skatin-
im still waiting, for the engineers to repair-
this destruction, but nobody even cares-
people smokin, on drugs, niggas fuckin whores-
shitt dont make sense(cents) like fat kids dat is poor-
but dis is life nigga, and we livin a big strife nigga-
we pullin triggas nigga, white folk, we call em wiggas-
projects and hood aint eva gonna change to dis day-
we need a new president to legislate da USA-
(J Keeps) my nigga
Throw more bodies to the wolves, more copies of that bull,
To stop us who's options are books or glocks to be pulled,
We tuck our luggage under our belt buckle,
If you tell of it, hell's comin', kids are like, well, fuck it,
We sell numbing, L puffin' righteous minds,
Who fell hundreds of floors, you can't be lovin' and poor,
So we run with a dumb kid that likes his nines,
So we might just find our dumbness stuck in under six
Feet of crumblin' shit, wonderin' if we're cool in the after life,
If factors really determine a man worth, then I'm half a cent,
Cuz disastor likes a rappers pen, and we hafta vent,
Does that make us bad for it?
Or just a bastards friend, a haphazard accident...
Reply With Quote