My thoughts are fears… Balance the wallet waste money on beer alcoholic, my thoughts bother, “no father.” Towns always gets harder: competing with other Ballars! “Trifolin my hope, “Creased Pants, Cholo”!!! Clone the soul… Learn your body goals!! Leaving your soul is cold. Street code, to the weed I sold!!! Speak your mind to the old times. When you stay in the streets your Heart will beat hard life, when you seek.
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