Guest
The struggle lives hard times, we do or die My whole crews fly hands high to the sky So maintain son elevate try to build But now you're still 'cause incarceration is for real Yeah son you know its on Now who would be the clown in the nine-six to mess around and catch a fist I show no mercy if you irk me I got physical that alert me when some herb tried to jerk me Or put the squeeze on it, break down the cipher But it won't work, were tight like the Q-Tip in the fight Now is you insane is your brain intact We be official when it comes to this no B.S. rap Here comes the lyrical, aerial raid right where you rest at Now test that I snatch your heart right through your chest black Gettin ill thoughts when I sleep at night I gotta maintain, blot the blood stains…
