Tankar & texter; del 13.

Check my lifestyle.

This little black child.
Growing up hood, forced to live his life wild.

Yeah I might smile, on a occasion.
But look into my eyes, you’ll see the fire blazin.

My heart is aching, life got me stressed fam.
Been through enough, still these dickheads tryna test man.

My head is heavy, got too much thoughts. Overloading my brain, still I do not talk.

From young, I felt pain, life’s not what I thought. See life’s not a game gotta watch how I walk.
And watch how I talk , and who I talk to.
Cuz man you grew up with, can have you in the court room.

Friends turn to fakes, fakes turn to snakes then the snakes haters start talkin to the jakes

Life ain’t a game.
Life ain’t da same.

Yeah my life’s real, fuck what you feel. I know some man that can bang bang till you’re kill’d.

Look, I ain’t perfect. 
I’m lookin in the mirror at myself like:
”Rich, it ain’t workin”

I’m still hurtin.

See the pain in my eyes. 
No lie.
The fires still burnin
The worlds still turnin.

Seen life from different vibes.
Pissy stairways, c
rack houses and homicides.

I’ve seen hell through my mothers eyes.
Ain’t nutten worse than when you see your mother cries.

Wish it was good, wish we had another life.
Mum you done your best, please don’t apologise.

Stop looking with those worried eyes.
We’re gonna make it, we have to, and there aint no lies.

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