grew up in a cursed life full of trials and tribulations, working hard like niggaz in the plantations , regardless of signing job applications i remain helpless as the 😈 observes my suffering in the heavy thuderring and smothering of hate and oppression the only defence mechanism for me is aggression in this progression to make it out the hood my phonie friends left me for dead in exchange of bread and it's all good, but I'ma keep making money how I should. instead of thinking I shoulda, coulda or woulda. Ima make money this way or day way. I'ma pave the fucking path or make niggaz feel my wrath.