was raised, the little young paki doin bad sht
Talk much **** cause I never had shT
I could remember being whupped in class
And if I didn’t pass mama whupped my a**
Was it my fault papa didn’t plan it out
Passed away left me to be the man of the house
I couldn’t take it, had to make a profit
Down the block, got a glock, and I clock grip
Makin G’s was my mission
Movin enough of this sh*T to get my mama out the kitchen and
why must I sock a fella, just to live large like Rockefeller…
wht's this?
you want it raw and straight from the heart? Here tis. Good work chicka.