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Poor Thang
So closeBoom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boomBoom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boomPoor thing, young pup's playin' war gamesHe wanted love, but he only made more painPoor thing, young pup's playin' war gamesHe wanted love, but he only made more painPicture my soul climbin' out of infinite holesWhere niggas die over pride and live for the doughIf I survive, then I strive to hit with the flowHopin' these waves will pave, but the ripples is slowAnd I'm conflicted with no digits to showBut fantasies of frivolous hoes grippin' this poleThe temperaturе's lowBut you know that ain't stoppin' lil' nigga from slidin'Like the tires on thе whip in the snowVicious for sure, I'm tip-toein'Around the abyss with sticks blowin'Piss poor with intentions to glimpse, the wrist glowin'Face, tits, for rent, owingFist clenched when niggas diss, but since knowin'Lives expire when niggas pride gets higherThan the vocal range inside, but rise vocal chain, uhMy road to fame is rife with spikes and broken lanesAnd tolls I can't afford, but I won't complainI know the more I gotta struggle is the more I gainPost-traumatic stress on an immature brainLeaves another corpse, young pup playin' war gamesNow he's handcuffed, old lady sayin', "Poor thing"Poor thing, young pup's playin' war gamesHe wanted love, but he only made more painPoor thing, young pup's playin' war gamesHe wanted love, but he only made more painYou wanna talk shit? You wanna run your mouth?You want some gangsta's front yo motherfuckin' house?We'll set this bitch off, yeah, set this bitch offWe'll set this bitch off, set this bitch off (Set)You wanna—Here go a song that gets this shit off of my sternumThis nigga back home been talkin' slickAnd I done heard himYou get your name goin'Niggas like that gon' throw they dirt onYou make you some callsNiggas gon' act like you ain't earn 'emHe talk like he live, but I remember him from high schoolMan, deep down inside, know he a bitch, I wanna hurt himI know that's my pride, I carry it just like a burdenWhen egos is flarin'Beware that's when they close the curtain(Put your hands up)It's when they close the curtain (Put your motherfu—)It's when they close the curtain(You pullin' out a gun, nigga?Yo, chill, chill, chill-chill-chill-chill)It's when they close the curtain(You pullin' out a gun, nigga?Yo, chill, chill, chill, chill)It's when they close the curtain(You gon' shoot me? No, no, no)Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fadeCome get your issue, no one gets sprayedWin or you lose, live to fight another dayAnd if I take an L, I won't feel no wayPlenty nights a nigga didn't eat, punk bitchRent owed, damn near was on the street, punk bitchWeren't no Western UnionsSo you were not needed, punk bitchAll of a sudden, I'm buzzin', oh, now it's beef, punk bitchGo 'en and pop offGet fucked 'bout your mystique, punk bitchI knew you way before you was actin' street, punk bitchStarted rollin' with niggas that's packin' heat, punk bitchYou more like me than them niggasYou still a geek, punk bitchYou can't hide it with tattoos on your physique, punk bitchAnd that lingo you added, that how you speak, punk bitch?And you grew up with both your parents to teach, punk bitchSo how the fuck all of a sudden you turnin' G, punk bitch?You a slave to the peer pressure, you're weak, punk bitchYou ain't claimin' no real section, your street wasn't litMan, your shit look like mine, with hella tree trunks, bitchMoved to Forest Hill Drive, and it was peace for a bit'Til domestic turned violent, then a key just switchedIn the back of my mind, I gotta be somethin', bitchThat's when I started rhymin' and makin' beats, son o' bitchWay before you was lyin' 'bout touchin' keys, son o' bitchHeard you say I ain't real, that's your belief, huh, bitch?Well, look, I'm back in the 'VilleSo we can see, punk bitchGonna shoot me the fair one when we meet, punk bitchAnd don't be bringin' no hammers, nahDon't cheat, punk bitchNah, don't cheat, punk bitchTryna lean on that shit, nigga, I want my fuckin' head up('Cause I've been through lots of things)Punk bitch (Real)Punk bitch, huhPoor thing, young pup's playin' war gamesHe wanted love, but he only made more painPoor thing, young pup's playin' war gamesHe wanted love, but he only made more painDon't pull out no pistol, run me my fadeCome get your issue, no one gets sprayedWin or you lose, get to fight another dayAnd if I take an L, I won't feel no way'Cause I've been through lots of thingsHey, what's up? Hey what's upHey, what's up?Yo, what's good?HeyHey, what's up? What's up, how you been?Nah, fuckYour call has been forwarded to voicemailThe person you're trying to reach—Fuck
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