rockin them timbs like moccasins in
the cool of the night,
i run, see my breath,
the darkness of eyes turns blue in the light
should do some right
but not in the night
hit the ATM, nothing good is in sight
money for coke, money for whores
jack niggas for they stacks, hide it under the floor

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“Be uncomfortable; be sand, not oil, to the machinery of the world.”
- Gunter Eich