Lyrics:
the vintage stick em up pro Sixteen years old did his jail since there was no where to go Every mornin' calls his commrad to come n get em' a smoke He insane
peanut blue trap, I'm stuck, Stiff, Can't move, Paralyzed, Mud slides, Excuses, That are made up, Can't focus, I hang out wit, Commrads
gettin' this twisted Holdin' on like a hubcap in the fast lane, in the car pool lane Puffin' on some maryjane Me and a couple of my commrads man We some
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