A million home sellers couldn't find a realer state
Wisest to be rappin since mac was in fourth grade.
Stuck in my high, afraid of heights, i'm trapped
Cause you can't even rap in the fourth grade band
Tricky as arithmetic was spittin' shit in sixth grade,
I'm spittin hungry like ain't shit up on my dinner plate
Raised in this whirlwindour childhood years, recall the tears: heart laced with venom
While spittin grade a fuckin trash, you want responses? i got 'em
That ice be onto my neck and wrist
You can't face th' brutal honest
A grade could be reduced, just take em as bad jokes.
Fly nigga couldn't tell me nothing different homes
I've been doing this shit so fine since i rhymed up in sixth grade,
Kill you, shoot the funeral up and harlem shake at your wake
Cause i got the burner in the hand
Cause you can't even rap in the fourth grade band
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
You looking for tools to write and share lyrics online?
You're in luck! Get started using RapPad >