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LaCray Is My Blood Cousin
I walk through the valley in the hood of Cali. With my momma, she's the old she. Peeing, pushing baby brother stroller. Told me when I was old, I had to fan. My pot side was dark blue. So I was dressed as set for a second to get some respect. Realized if I were to set for respect, I would lose my identity. Full infinity. Streets was called everybody by name. They built a pain. It was hard to resist the call of that death wish. Ganglice started taking up cats for breakfast. Then jumped to the next of kin. The life you choose to make, fame. Which leads