Basically, a [half] verse about my location in the world. As you'll see, it's really mixed up
farms and shit, fake thugs with no arms or clips
alarms slip off when soneone shakes slight scripts
Lakeside crips who awake and decide they ship
flakes quip about what they rip, and when they take shit
then there's those who blast your ass when their pasture's passed
big contrast to that last tetrad, all get harassed if not in their class
rednecks, fat bastards who want the black kids in caskets
its past hid everyones on track with it , theres a lack of lids.....
...then I hit a wall.
-ship- drug trafikking
-Lakeside is a suburb near where I live
-tetrad- cardinal number that is the sum of one and three > the previous 4 lines
Feed Appreciated
I'll finish this later...... If I feel like it