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Jun 2020
This energy, blasphemy, how I feel sometimes/
This nightshade I eat, criples my fuccn mind/
They flood our minds, ears, eyes, all our senses ta ****/
Then question why we high, hollin **** a d!ck/
Society speaks, we weak, n always listenin/
Flashbacks a warm blood glistenin, while it’s tricklin/
In my free time, ski mask, that was my me time/
.40s lodged in brick walls, ricochetin off street signs/
I need that rewind/
Humanity, on a decline/
Skated by on project capers, dubs, nics n dimes.

Committed crooked crimes like drunk n!ggas on straight lines/
Crack behind the glovebox, speedin, duckin one-time/
You’ll never know real, slim, till real see you/
You might ****t ya pants, slim, seein real n!ggas bleed through/
Blood, Loc, Folk, we all strivin for hope/
LK, Azteca, Trece/
Que rollo to my folks/
Chill-e Sliphop
Written by
Chill-e Sliphop  Maryland
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