I'm heavy hearted, heavy headed, misunderstand it,
Try the permanent repercussions, I empty the cannon.
I'm addicted to ganja, roll it up in a wood,
Drink a gallon of heaty, throw it up with the hood.
I'm a rhyme for my people, give my people a voice,
Never follow the leader, use the weapon of choice.
This is not an illusion, this is not a mirage,
Conversation with God, spilling my soul out.
I own assault weapons that fall down like Megatron
The iron mob, try better bombs, I'm better alone.
So tag along like a dog with a bag of bones,
Smoke to the sack of gold, nigga on a grind,
Put my motherfucker records on,
So they can relate to the hate and the pain,
To the struggle and strain,
Never take it in vain, bring the one and the same.
Press and push your forehead at the back of your brain.
So now
Let's spread it out, nigga,
Yeah, yeah,
Spread it out, spread it out, spread it out,
It go oooo, oooo,
(And you can't get none, you don't want none, you can't get none,
Spread the fuck out, gets these hot ones)
I try not to get involved with the nonsense
I'm from the time where you couldn't pause comments,
wondering
woman
weapon
understood
throw
where
thought
these
suffer
struggle
stripping
strain
starting
spread
spilling
smoke
should
follow
weapons
behind
rhyme
equal
decisions
chain
swagger
inducing
enough
ganja
ignore
relate
people
never
retain
family
bring
bones
while
continue
fights
session
constantly
forehead
coming
misheard
chose
heavy
baggy
bagger
allure
tight
assault
finished
conversation
alone
buddha
intentions
maneuver
empty
addicted
better
along
losing
sorry
everywhere
barracuda
comments
bitches
choice
drink
computer
leader
living
cannon
bombs
brain
catch
children
grind
fucking
misunderstand
pause
confusion
records
brand
gallon
permanent
press
headed
fatal
direction
discretion
heading
taking
hearted
right
illusion
involved
manure
mirage
maybe
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