Untitled Song

Formal introduction, Frank, age 15,

In 2K15, now ain't that shit weird?

Just another willie nillie bumping '90s shit,

'99, am I a nillies or a '90s kid?

Fuck that nostalgia, 64,

I got a discount, fifty for sixty whores,

You know kids these days, no shame, go figure

Just a couple hoodlums in them hoodies, sweatshirts,

With switchblade knives, like Popeye on the spinach

Access to the excess, that's just for the winners

But that's just what your grandma read, in the paper, cash back

Get the paper, like a crash of Wall Street flashback,

Drugs still a thing, and ain't shit change that man,

You're gonna need Bats to find my stash in my backpack

That's fucked up

And we fucked up big time didn't we?

We never looked at the real crime or did we?

We still fucking up real big nah isn't we?

Still lock up the wrong people isn't we?

Let that slide like pills to a minor

I pray for underage girls with them thugs in they vaginas

They ain't never had a chance to resist, or to salvage

That what could have been we pissing of the wrongest kind of dancers

Cause death is what we answer with if we ain't got the chance to pick

The real bad guys off, I can say as a philantropist

Statistics show that they'll blow your head of clean

But this police state scared, so ain't shit seen, that's it