Every night of my life doesn't align with bein' online sprayin' bars
Nobody rep for the skins, they busy cheering them stars
With this rap as my rack of the bars that i spit
At times i like to watch out the latest shit
I don't give a fuck either like father, like son, i'm done
But when he's sober bet his bars still burn like sniffing cinnamon
I switch to pistol, diss the system, niggas i'll be spitting bars,
We don't want you with skinny legs and the big ass ass shots
Take a couple bits, bitch kibbles, bitch i gotta riddle
It's obviously visible that most your bars are fictional
Bars over bars its like ima stuck in a lyrical prison,
I keep my friends close, enemies closer, fuck both, i dont trust no one
Trying to get away, but i think im stuck
It took you 16 bars to say that i suck?
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