Matikář - naučíme matematiku. Každého.
Betano.cz - nová česká sázková kancelář

The Struggle (Reema Major)

Sinister ministers unholy nuns, why you niggas got guns When you know you pop none Couple of lies and some wax and some wanksters Big front they disguised as some gangsters big tee tip tims and the fitted cap Hella speech mad front with an empty gat, what type of shit is that See I don't know, you said you the type quick to grab the four four But more like them dirty niggas singing to the po-po keep if real or fucking go home is the motto Boys look good speakin' quick Young girls don't believe that shit, believe that shit Down to earth wifey type mad loveable But young boy don't mistaking me for gullable Separate all the lies from the truth Who you think you gon' deceive boo? I don't believe you Yo, never alter my appearance to satisfy no eyes Cause it’s all lies,silicon is in the suicide You alive but you really dead, And the traits you be looking for in life you cannot buy with bread Ah, my testimony homie, indicate I ain't phony I'm popping rounds at all them clowns that be fronting on me Seat back tinted windows tinted shades callin my versace raise coppin bigger pay But you fully grateful that I love to see another day Life in another way, feel got distract, just the biggest brain It ain't a secret that I'm running this effect that I'm hot So if you dumb ___ try to be something you not