Untitled Song

they lookn for way out, i rather let the tape spin,

scale'n up the weight out, momma gonna hate this,

baby mama calling say my son need a play pen,

so i gotta get it, she dont even need to say when.

all i got is debit, plus this pistol in my waistband,

incase the shit get sketchy, have to blow a nigga brains in,

all the violence I seen, bring out violence in me

i feel it rise threw my feet, like the sun when it rise from the east,

same side where i re-side and i sleep,

wake up re-align my physique,

puffy eyes from the stink im blowing