Alluded illusions
• Written by Anonymous
Another back pack rappin, chubby nigga cappin,
Movin to the fiends, the Verbal version of trappin,
I been a ill spitter since daddy been movin packin,
(Still a chain smoker but refeer is what im tappin)
Come and catch a fade you callin for the bappin,
But fuck the small talk we skippin to the conclusion,
Tired of livin life entangled in these illusions,
Heard the odds was stacks so probably why we loosin,
You either in the pen or the grave, or niggas snoozin,
They sleepin, or stuck in a dream but never eatin,
Learned the kid was sick, That explain why intrest peakin,
Prolly cuz the sounds is poppin and shortys peepin,
Claimin they was friends before, these niggas reachin,
They really reachin, so understand its hard grasp it,
Gotta keep it pushin no lookin when you surpassed it,
Tryin hide away from the pain but only masked it,
And momma tryin but oldest is movin past it,
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