Just a lil verse I did last summer

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Sicc OG
Jul 3, 2002
Hit these mean streetz wit ententions of jackin'
Deep down dirty inner city taggin'
Krack my dosia sack and start to smokin'
4 all my homies bustin' wit K's and we livin' in hell
Time 2 grip the pen and provale souls get sold leavin the world cold in that single cell
But on the real I must concentrate on me and myself and not speak about what I could tell
But still been gettin' off on bail kuz of organized mafia wealth
I'm ready to repelle like a quick blade
Must I say in the sands of time you gotta be self-made
Waitin' on the day I blow up like a grenade
But hold up wait
I keep my faith in betta days but I'll never change
Money seems to nothin' but everything
But that's how it is when you in the game
I ain't gonna lie I got that greed pumpin' through my veinz
To make ya brain waves dance bustin flows in a sykopathik lookin' attack stance
Like I'm ready to crack heads
Bubble up wit pressure from every bomb smoke session
Then write my text wit temptation
Controling my patience leads to stackin' sick potent poetic pages
It's been done through writen tactics for ages by those that knew their talent was major
Officaly a amazin caucasian wit a style that'll twist up and bend ja
Now that's contagious wit traces in yo mind of verbal remains
Can you relate to us
Did I mention I sag my pants shakin' off the devil magnum dance
When I inhance substantual chances killin' off all advances in the two-O-six