I'm talking about the badlands
Ain't nothing but a sadland
I don't blame it on the city
But the badlands put its mark on you
I see Johnny at the corner
As the Popsicleman
All of a sudden he's got a gun in his hand
Now Jonhny's in a wheelchair
'Cause of the Popsicleman
At the wrong place at the wrong time
Now he understands
I need to find some peace of mind
I need a rest, I need to unwind
This hangin' and bangin' goin' on This ain't no hell, this is my home
I'm talking about the badlands
Ain't nothing but a sadland
I don't blame it on the city
But the badlands put its mark on you
(SWING:) Bad Land!
You gotta know the streets muthafucka
It can't be no one time beef muthafucka
Can you feel me really
I hope you rocking mic's
Than you ain't slinging dope
Check the masses who major in the gunblast
On yah filthy rich ass
'Cause you ain't never cut class
But they did
Now they're fuckin' underrated
And ain't trying to throw no joints, or no bullshit
Just drink liquor, smoke hydro and just pull shit
Stay jigg without the man, stack the grand
'Cause the plan done work
Now we're duckin' from Uncle Sam
Blam! Take that on yah way out
Stay out! Yah days out - lights out!
Back to my hideout
You inside out makes the inside edition
A scar is my tradition
Doin' you in intermission
She's just a wannabe
Just wannabe be somebody
She's just a wannabe
Just wannabe be somebody
Writer(s): Josef Svedlund, Rami Yacoub, Richard Silva, Lutricia Michelle Mcneal, Daniel Papalexis, Daniel Benn Backstrom
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