Originally Posted by
bergs
Gold Thugs love insane portions
Rhymin abolitionist free from mental inslavement, abortions
my statements are hated, props to the man who advised me not to say shit
made me a better man
loaded the brain clips my synapse delivers nerve missles
We grip pistols but pray to hey zeus (jesus)
and tell our lost friend "I miss you"
Isn't this hypocritical?
I'm on my last ropes, kids who have mad dope
keep the government mad stoked
shits nonsense, sure there's frames and cop thefts
but lets keep our eyes to the sky prospects
I'd rather work minimum wage, the stuck in a minimum grave
Or in lock up, stuck in a minimum space
How can I believe in god?
Whe he robbed my friend of his life in burning flame light
he laughed and breathed, I can't pop shots at god
so I load up these clips and blast these frees
or last year my man got riddled with bullets and dumped in a river
I shedded tears battled sickness with hard liqours
Cross sections of my life made me a better person
I can't lie I've wanted to snatch purses
and steal cars
but if I don't will that guarantee my place up under the stars?
or is my place strung out, hung at this bar?
Gaspin for another drink, thoughts muffled
can't swim, beggining to sink
I'm thankful cause I got tossed a life raft
and I can say with no hesitation my life raft is rap
AND THANK GOD FOR THAT
What do I rap?
My thoughts float got a raw scope that saws throats
I bought dope, smoked and my thought hoped
My mental thoughts coked, so I stopped
too many searches too many cops
started poundin brews till I felt my mind rot
the spot hopped, cipher sessions made the spot hot
But the cops stopped the mad fun, fuck it
started playin roulette with cap guns
It's a race but the glass won, a ciggarette a rum mix
stumblin down steps doin some dumb shit
But I keep my eyes to the sun
cause among the stars is where the battle is won
Not down here with our petty troubles
Broken Condoms?? Is another life really a problem?
I guess in this day and age, where a cocked gauge
seals our fate and numbers our days
I wanna shoot fire and spit thunder that blaze
fuck fate, we control the shit we do
Fate didn't end you up in a pool of you
My brain screws are loose maybe that's why I spit truth
A blank page is my mobile vocal booth
to spit clues to the local and global youth
God Damn!!! RIP
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