Текст песни Mother Of God - MIKE feat. V. Bonema
Yeah,
yeah,
yeah,
yeah
Swear
I'm
getting
too
old
for
the
dumb
shit
They
tryna
turn
my
soul
into
nothing,
yeah
Remember
Broadway,
bowl
for
the
dumplings
Remember
hard
days,
was
with
the
fuck
shit
Now
I'm
'bout
to
leave
the
clothes
back
in
London
This
is
gold,
this
a
toast
to
my
youngins
This
a
ode
to
when
I'm
gone
or
when
I'm
done
here
'Cause
this
black
skin
really
making
sons
stare
Without
the
packs
with
weed
for
my
blunt,
yeah
With
the
pack,
I
bet
the
weed
wouldn't
come
here
And
I'm
attached,
see
these
streets,
yeah,
I
love
it
This
a
pact
to
my
team,
it's
a
conference
Going
deeper
in
this
hole
in
this
dungeon
To
the
point
where
I
don't
even
want
shit
Just
freedom
and
a
little
bit
of
loving
Just
freedom
and
a
little
bit
of
love
Why
are
you
always
sitting
around?
Would
you
not
like
to
get
up
and
do
something?
You
know
hard
it
is
to
take
care
of
two
kids
when
you
still
have
to
go
to
school
and
work?
You
gotta
do
better
You
say
you're
trying,
but
you
maybe
try
harder
I
don't
wanna
say
it,
I
don't
know
you
gotta
say
to
her
now
Try
harder
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