story

ran outa weed to smoke niggas actin like that choke all i wana choke on is that dope and runnin outta ways to express it is it a curs or a blessin man i feel like there is no hope my tears run down my face steady like a metronom and why i always be stressin no one knows what i been through so they allways be messin messin up me life can i win or loose this fight all there is to do is get high to get by to ask why sit in my room listen to x and then all these thought go through my head sometimes i just i was dead so i take all these meds take a lil weed then every thing is good feelin like im still feelin feelin misunder stood walk up in the hood like ay man whats good im feelin like someones watching me am i being viewed then he pull up to my face being rude so then his fam pulled up now its a family fued stabbed him now he got a wound pulled out my blick a shootout continued shot me once i withstanded now i robbed him just like a bandit left him abandid i was so hogh felt like i was on a diff planet waited 10 years no i did not plane it i took his shit i did not damand it waitin more out the window ill get through it