FLAM Films Presents: Chadd Downing - Number Two
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Loyalty as rare as niggas chains being real, as rare as people making music that I really feel. I feel like I might catch a body any given day, not cause I’m violent, but cause of people’s fraudulent ways. Infiltrating my mind, all I got is time, and I could see the clock ticking; so it’s a shot I give ‘em. My enemy is next to me I’m playing it cool, cause a wise man is such that he could play the fool, the roles are not reversed, now boy you need to learn, ‘fore yo momma in a funeral home holding an urn. I hope that line dig in yo soul plus deeper, heart cold like a freezer, but burn through yo mother fucking skull like ether, I’ll pay you to find an equal. Yeah, thats what I thought, it ain’t one, not cause it ain’t none, only cause I ate them. Yeah, real life type killer shit, African witch doctor chanting in your village shit. A bipolar spectrum is what I got to offer, a hand or a coffin, and make yo ass disappear like the man Hoffa in the sands of time. Slam my brain against the pavement to free my mind, the blood a make a rose grow, a garden in fact; had some life goals planned, but I’m struggling with that. I got demons in my mind though my heart is good, a hot gun on my waist, eyes filled with blood. I hear the screams of a siren, and flashing lights, and hope my feet carry me if I need to flight, and hope my gun dont jam if I fail to run, I got “things” out here if you needing one. I heard of angels, I need me one, I heard of food for thought, feed me some, shit, yeah , nigga. Lack of knowledge why we struggling now, I push my problems in a bottle, and I guzzle it down, they want a muzzle on my face like a dog thats wild. I got style, and charisma, smile like a prisoner fresh out of the hole, greeting hoes, wit gold, and liquor. Mad dues I paid it, mad dudes done hated, mad women degraded in the process, but I made it. Fuck it I’m feeling flagrant I’m styling on all niggas, the talented Trentonian is now on nigga. Not seeing my vision, is why you in a Burger King now mopping kitchens, fuck it though you living, coulda been a victim, coulda been a friend to me, now on the front of the shirt, in memory. Peezy Loc I bet these niggas remember me.