THIS AINT ME TALKIN, ITS THE DEMONIC INTELLECT THAT TAKES OVER WHEN IM SLEEP WALKIN
I wouldn't call myself a writer, just a girl who can’t sleep. won't sell 'em no dream, but the inspiration is free.
My Brother
On The Northside, Corner I stood lookin at his former hood
Felt the spirit in the wind, knew my friend was gone for good
Threw dirt on the casket, the hurt, I couldn’t mask it
Mixin down emotions, struggle I hadn’t mastered
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