Rewind Ghosts

Battle through the city, all my lights up shiny.
Nigga coming out the seven, we are busting in my city.
Nigga you fucking up my life, on that curb doing suicide.
Pointing straight my head, I can't take it so I decided.
Twenty-five strider, I can't see no fucking sight.
Yeah, I got a forty cal, but I'm aiming at my second lyric.
Talking 'bout my city, we the plug in the city.
Ninety-nine cents, make the bag on the low.