Iam 32 now,iam still living with my mum can you handle?
iam still trying to run away from my laundry
and if i make to Geoffrey,whats up,whats up?
where is the morning glory
I smoke the highest grade early in the morning
and while we are talking everyday is the same story
him and me to the grocery
we subject to this mockery
it's like a sorcerer laid a curse upon of poverty
upon the souls of us ghetto youths
compound by the face of brutality
i spit my thoughts as i speak of humanity
my notoriety,made way to my liberty
they get rich while we smoke thick
and now we filling these empty streets
with disgrace and a lot of stress
whats next is the wildness
the rowdiness trying to address
this whole mess because we wont let
a lame face push up more stress
man are born saints
but the constraints
make we lose our own face
which makes way to disgrace race
i put these lines first
for the rest in this world just wont last....