1 Mo Gin

It’s my last chance at it nigga

Birthdays passin’ I’m burnin’  blowing out ashes in ’em

My quest for cash dictates call it a fascist system

The lack of it brought covenants to the alleys with ’em


Who to trust, not these hoes I’d hope not

Though it gets cold our souls burdened in dope spots

Taught to bury the pain our tears are shown not

We resurrect them in intersections with chrome shots


Just a shoulder to lean, but love is barely there.

More frenemies then families the coldest air

In these concrete cul-de-sacs some call it hell

Running in circles my color purple brought heaven here


Temporarily mid blunts burn barely yeah

The streets is deadly niggas might have to take it there

Yeah you scared, admit it, that paranoia stare

Got you clutching the panic button, let off the flares, yeah


But I really want a peace of mind

So I grind until the piece is mine

How a nigga ‘spose to see when them that lead is blind

How a nigga ‘spose to be if he can’t read the signs


This design of many lies, I’m lost in ’em

Pallbearer at 13 them scars with him

All in all we rise, fall and rise similar


To the sun and the moon, I guess the gods in ’em

We celestial born, cut from a star system

Black hole in the swag, you see the magnetism

I’ll survive through the fire and the cataclysm

We’ll survive through the fire and the cataclysm




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