Massive laminate fortress, hazy cannibus porches. Saying no to the bores it's not mine or yours then I said. "Wait sucks I don't mind waiting". You get here there's no more gates and I gotta say
. Let's compare scars. I'll tell you whose is worse. Let's unwrite these pages. And replace them with our own words We live on front porches and swing life away. We get by just fine here on minimum wage
look a little laid back to ya. But it ain't all just porches and plows. But don't let that one red light fool ya. There's always something going down. In this nothing town. That old abandoned factory
beneath their shade. Where the boys have left their beer cans. I am weeds between the graves. My porches sag and lean with old black men and children. My sleep is filled with dreams, I never can fulfill
beneath their shade. Where the boys have left their beer cans. I am weeds between the graves. My porches sag and lean with old black men and children. My sleep is filled with dreams, I never can fulfill
I went from old school Chevy's to drop top porches. You couldn't walk a mile off in my Air Forces. And you ain't seen what I've seen. I can get a 100,000 in these Sean John jeans. I went from old
get fame or get rich. I slap a @#%$ like you. And tell him Rick James bitch. Witcha Hollywood stories on porches. We poli hood stories on who became rich. And whatever light they hit, we wanna hit
