Will I live?
Will I live to see the future?
How will it be?
Or will I even live to see
the age of twenty-three?
I'm eighteen now,
down with a gang.
On Saturday night
all I wanna do is gang bang,
and shoot up some bkools,
leave their body on the street,
all covered in blood,
take off in our street,
and smoke some good weed,
esa de la verde,
chronic's the shit.
pass around the pipa
and take another hit.
We sit on the driveway
take the pisto out,
and talk to the bitch on the phone,
come over to my house,
we're about to throw a party,
its gonna be hella bad,
bring all who you can,
i'm going to show them who is the man...
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