corrija a letra Letra 8 23 por Lucien Parker

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I hear em chirpin they twitter chirpin it's perfect
My
Family a sermon
I do em a service hol up'
I hold the phone to my ear when she cry
I know baby
We runnin thin and my pockets as thin as slim shady

We back and forth like a 4 door accord Turing in sleet slow sliding
We flippin back like a 180
My stomach turnin I haven't eaten since 8, maybe
So I stomach these bars, writin so much lately

Can we live in today?
For a Friday approach
When we go back to the hustle
I just got paid so let's smoke

Let's just sit on Tuesday. We know we got work we know we got hurt
But I leave in the morning
Wednesday you back at the church

f*ck if I'm late, f*ck if I'm first

Either way I hate my day job
Sometimes I can't see nothin else many days I feel like Ray Charles
And I hate this life
But I'm livin and breathing so I don't hate this life

Enough

But I've seen my friends wanna put themselves on a blade or gun
I'm trapped
Living on edge with a pencil
Living on edge when I roll that Dutch with the music loud roll down my window

Say f*ck a pig!
Pork for the fork that's just my shit talk

My diss walk millie rockin with my cuffs on make em pissed off
Grip my hand before we flip this shit

Sliding

When we were kids and all decisions miss fired
It could have been this that ended all this shit
But I'm still me and you're still you

And she bout to turn 22 and all of this
Because I smoked a spliff

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