Doce
Shorties are leaning
Barely dreaming
Just moving through the day
Waiting to get to the night
Facing all their frights
As the light grows dimmer
Eating breakfast as dinner
Never feeling a winner
Always called a sinner
Never a saint
Painted pictures are murals
Telling dead homies to rest in power
In final hours just burning sour
With extremely sweet wraps
Entrapped
Show me what you got
And I’ll let you go
Cherries glow under chinky eyes
Never focused on the prize
Promise never delivered
Returned to false hopes
Where bubbles disappear
In foul breeze
Seizing the spirit to pray
Take control of time
Make those moments work for you
Minimum stage
Maximum gain
How will you profit from your pain
Instead of syndicating your shame
Wanna talk to young G’s
Partners are posers
Lames who play same mind games
Nothing left but
To stay brown and grow old
Keep your crown shining
Be brilliant and bold
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