Having It Ruff
My script bring static because it’s diplomatic make cats
Trip like addicts I’ve had it with the sick politics and stats
Do a hot write and its not polite for yall not to reply give pats
On the back sometime even to a dumb rhyme, we live through art
Like a hardcore musical this is far more than usual it rip apart
Script and art make me turn somersault I’m in my hummer
Caught at a service station having a nervous relation a comer
Of stress tryin to fill gas tank faced with a fast blank in my bill-
Fold it thrills my soul to try and pump petro in the ghetto it kills
My spirit four dollars a gallon, my hummer on route thirsts with
Frequent outburst of engine die behavior so it’s such a major gift
To feed this thing in order to proceed to cling to the road with a load
Of luggage, sick of my spouse got kicked out the house that’s the code
Of the road, hate fakes my girl bake cakes and blend in the nuts, but
She lay down and play around with other brothers and that’s corrupt
Force to divorce after a stiff course of disagreements had some bad luck
Now I’m gone alone from home and the gas prices has elevated and
So much strife I’ve took my life is like books strangle and commingled
With sarcasm and sadness phantasm madness like the movie get dingled
In a spiritual way go dto have my lyrical say ready to Escape to New York
Like Snake Bliskin like Kurt Russell work my muscles like Ice Cube in that Torque
Movie got a century of blame messing with Henry James on two wheels
Try be flagrant like that FBI agent in that black Hummer want in on the deal
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