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Stomping Grounds - Wildcard (Ft. Illmac)
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Stomping Grounds Wildcard (Ft. Illmac)

Stomping Grounds - Wildcard (Ft. Illmac)
Chorus: Wildcard
I don’t wanna leave tonight
I don’t wanna leave tonight
Oooho oohoo
I don’t wanna leave tonight
I don’t wanna leave tonight
Oooho oohoo

[Verse 1: Dead Poet]
I’m from the itty-bitty city full of yards and hills
Where bitches run around, high on shards and pills
Where darkness spills and the heartless chills
And whores perform oral for apartment bills
Your poet get lifted on a daily basis
You criticizing that shit, trade me places
Baby girl come out on the porch swing the ticket
She fourteen and wicked, and morphine addicted
Hair in a rat’s nest, can’t pass a math test
But glad that passed class that’s packed with her Dad’s meth
‘Round herе that shit’s a common occurrence
You bettеr have a weapon or some drama insurance
Tweakerville, most meth heads per capita
Don’t let my fuckin’ deathbed verse capture ya
Better move in packs under Hilliard moons or catch bad luck like proof in a billiard room
In Washington
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