Fuck barack’s change, we’d rather talk milian’s hair
When they open the box and inhale the pale air.
And got her room number, you can find me there
Multiple middle fingers in the air
And the air force scrambles fighters
Penncounting pennys over tha years
A bunch of temptation facing when your wife ain’t there
She showed no lover's care, mauled like she was just cuttin' air.
Until all the air bubbles have popped.
This for my niggas that really rap hard
Rap and do the impossible like i can carry air.
Or try to fill the shoes of an invisible pair
Ain't no skipper but all my bitches is ginger hair
Your a kid posing like willow in bel air,
And them which is more of a circus than a fair
To see how long your lungs can stay starved of air
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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