Notes to Myself by Luke Choice

Four hitters, four winners,
Tryna tell ‘em you don’t wanna go to war with us.
We be them, we be them, young riders,
Raised in the gutters, really started from the bottom.
We all we ever had, we all we ever needed and we undefeated.
We be goin’ hard, and make it look easy.
Give me the whole pie, real cheesy.
Knock, knock, you about to get shell shocked.

(Source: littlechinesedoll)


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