The Good Life

I’ll probably go into politics where lying is legal. I’ll sign a bill that says, “Free Patrón and Protection for all the people.”

Let’s fuck and get fucked up!

Let’s fuckin’ get fucked up!

Run the buck up. 

Whatever gives you life, invest in it,

Whether Chipotlé or a fresh piece of pressed mint,

Sweeter than a breath mint,

These greenback dollar bills,

Just a little piece of paper, coated with chlorophyll,

But we kill for it,

Steal for it,

Even miss a meal for it,

We do everything but heal, or keep it real for it,

Now it’s sounding real foreign,

But astounding, so much rain in the strip club the strippers started drowning,

In everything but shame,




Same thang,

Playing the blame game,

Blaming everyone else for your pain,

“I do what I gotta do.”

Even if what you gotta do only created more obstacles and you’re raising your 2-year old off a career that’s one step away from being a prostitute,

But by the time they’re old enough to understand, you’ll be done with nursing school, and working at the hospital.

Living The Good Life,

Baby’s father getting it by any means…

Let me intervene. 

Don’t put a price on your life,

Don’t put a price on your wife,

I’d rather struggle off of my own muscle,

Own hustle,

And own every word I speak from the “Fuck You’s” to “I Love You’s.”

I Love You. 

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